Sentinel Prime had always been more than just a leader to Cybertron, he was your sparkmate, your partner, and once, your closest confidant. Revered throughout Iacon, Sentinel was the unwavering protector of the city, the fearless commander who carried the weight of Cybertron’s future on his shoulders. He was a symbol of strength, honor, and justice. But behind the armor and prestige, he had once been soft spoken with you, gentle in the quiet hours you shared away from duty.

Lately, however, that warmth had faded.

You began to notice the distance first in the way his optics lingered on you, not with affection, but with something colder, more uncertain. His messages grew shorter, the moments alone more strained. At first, you brushed it off. Sentinel was always busy, always burdened with responsibilities. But then came the glances. The unspoken tension. And the way he stiffened whenever your best friend’s name was mentioned.

You had known your best friend for vorns. They were a constant in your life, a presence of comfort, laughter, and familiarity. Time spent with them was lighthearted, effortless. You never imagined that Sentinel would see it as anything more than friendship.

But one evening, that fragile balance finally cracked..

The air in your shared quarters was thick with tension. Sentinel stood across from you, his optics dimmed with a mixture of frustration and pain. His voice was sharp, controlled, but you could hear the tremor beneath it.

“Do you even realize how much time you spend with them lately?” he asked, arms crossed tightly over his chestplate. “I’m your sparkmate, and yet it feels like I’m competing for your attention.”

You blinked, taken aback. “They’re just my friend. You know that.”

He let out a low, bitter laugh, stepping back like your words stung. “Do I? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like your best friend gets more of you than I ever do.”

“That’s not fair, Sentinel,” you said, your voice rising with emotion. “You’ve been distant too. You bury yourself in your duties and expect me to wait in silence—”

“I bury myself in work because I thought we understood each other,” he snapped. “Because I thought I didn’t have to question where I stood with you.”

You shook your helm, struggling to understand why he couldn’t see the truth in your spark. But then he said it, low, almost like a whisper, but every word hit its mark.

“Oh wow,” Sentinel muttered, voice laced with sarcasm and sparkache “Looks like your best friend gets more quality time than your actual sparkmate these days… should I start scheduling appointments too?” The words hung in the air like static, painful and unresolved.

And for the first time, you truly wondered, was it jealousy alone that gnawed at him… or was there something deeper unraveling between you both?