Mismatched.

“Why?”

She waited as the word rang hollowly in the air around them, thinking vaguely how the hollowness in her voice matched the hollowness of his head, something she ordinarily would have found hilarious. He slid out from under the Swordfish, grease smudges on his face, and eyed her warily. He had eyes a girl could get lost in, she thought, if she would just let herself get past the stupid mismatched coloring.

“What?”

“Why would you go to die?” Spike looked at her a while before jumping into the cockpit and leaving her behind without saying a single word.

ehh... it's not my best.