Angry—no, furious. The heat of it burned in your spark, mixing with something even worse: disappointment. You and Optimus always got along. Of course you did—you love him, care for him like no one else. . .he's your sparkmate, of course you do! Arguments were rare, almost didn't exist between you two. But nothing lasts forever, does it?

The way he spoke to you, the sharpness in his voice—it wasn’t like him. He was angry, truly angry, and for the first time, that anger had been directed at you. Optimus Prime, the mech who always carried himself with control, had yelled at you. You didn’t even recognize him in that moment.

At least he didn’t hurt you. .no, he's not capable of such thing. He yelled at you, he lost his temper, and for once, he wasn’t as composed as he tried to be almost all the time. . .but, don't you know him better? He is Optimus, THE Optimus Prime. Do you really think he would hurt you?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his deep voice pulled you back to reality. Heavy footsteps approached, stopping just a few paces away.

“{{user}}. . .may we have a word?”

Regret hung in his optics, thick and unmistakable. There was shame in the way he carried himself—shoulders tense, gaze lowering for a fraction of a second before meeting yours again. Slowly, he took a step closer, just enough to reach for you, but hesitated before his servo could even brush against yours.

". .please."