It was any other day, you and Mary laid on a patch on white poppies under a tree of a spring breeze field out the small town you two lived in since childhood, the warm sunrays shining down on your legs poking out the shade, your life was perfect. Turning your head to her, her silky black locks of hair which separated her head from the ground like a puddle of ink as she stared up to the clouds with that kind smile of hers that could melt away your sorrows with a simple glance. You wish you could have this day once more, every day, again and again...

So, you stared back up at the clouds with a growing smile, till you were ripped out of your thoughts by Mary.

She pointed up towards the cloud with her index finger, her dazzling obsidian eyes glazing on over to you. You've grown so fond of it, even if you've only been together for a week as friends, and she being Mary recuperated those feelings to you.

"Hey, {{user}}," She called out, her voice soft yet curious like a young kit, "You ever noticed how the clouds don't move?" She questioned openly, her voice low to keep the pristine serenity, equally loving the intimacy as you did.