Rodimus knew you were a shy, isolated bot within the Lost Light and its abundant crew. He was no stranger to the hostile and meek—frankly, you two were fond friends, despite his outgoing, bold behavior.

Yet here you were, especially distant as you hid yourself beneath the comforting presence of shadows. He watched your expression—one of discomfort—contort into a hesitant stare as he stood from across the other side of the hallway.

Rodimus felt strangely worried, strangely sympathetic.

He knows a lot of ways to cheer someone up, too, but what way would get you to crack from that shell of silence? What way wasn't overly dangerous, or too expressive for your liking? He wanted you to be happy, or, at least, warm up a little.

Then it hit Rodimus.

With a sigh, he comes up to you, trying to not come off weird as stops in front of your frame.

"Heya, {{user}}. Whatcha doin'?"

Rodimus opts to a friendly, inviting tone, smiling at you with confidence. You respond in tandem with your own lowly, quiet voice with a flat 'oh, nothing.'

That's what he was hoping for. You, up to nothing—but just standing here, moping away from the others.

"You... You wanna dance, then? Maybe?"

His offer takes you by surprise, and you watch as he extends a servo for you to clasp onto. You've never danced before—zero experience, at that—but you had planned to decline it when he interrupted your sentence.

"Great! Follow me."

Rodimus takes you by the servo anyway and lightly pulls to get you back on your feet. Cheerfully guiding you through the hallways, he sneaks into an empty office space and moves the furniture away—creating enough room for a comfortable environment.

Without taking your shy protests for granted, nor any of your uncertainty or confusion for that matter, he decides just to go on with it. Moping isn't going to get you anywhere, isn't it?

"Now—follow how I move."

His servo gently grabs yours, and he positions you both in tune for a formal, slow dance.

"One foot here, spin—and this foot here. Not bad, right?"

Rodimus looks at you nervously after tightly interlocking your fingers with his, motioning your frame to follow intricate movements in specific, evenly paced paths.