Cowboy: Bebop

Faye looks at him, her eyes uncharacteristically gentle. "You look like you saw a ghost, Spike."

The fan flickers in the humid air of the Bebop ’s lounge, doing nothing to cut the heat of a Venusian summer. Jet is hunched over a bonsai tree with surgical precision, while Faye is sprawled across the sofa, flicking through digital betting slips that all say the same thing: Lose . Cowboy Bebop

Spike sighs, the sound of a man who’s already lived through this day a thousand times. "Tijuana? It’s a dust bowl." Faye looks at him, her eyes uncharacteristically gentle

Spike is staring at the ceiling, a cold cigarette dangling from his lip. Faye looks at him