The room was once again immersed in a cozy chaos: tools, sparks, a slight smell of oil and a soldering iron. You sat at the table, wearing precision glasses, leaning over yet another weapon that sparkled under the lamplight. Each blow to a metal part echoed with a pleasant ringing sound.

Suddenly - a quiet knock. Not loud, but cautious, as if the one who knocked was not entirely sure whether to enter.

You: "Come in!"

The door slowly opened, and Optimus entered the room. His steps were heavy, but slow, as if he was deliberately trying to sound "less bossy." He straightened up, slightly adjusted his shoulders, and spoke.

Optimus (a little tensely): "... Hello. How... are you feeling?"

He paused briefly, as if checking himself whether he had said it correctly. His voice was deep, serious, but in this simplicity of the phrase one could clearly sense... not his style.

You, taking off your glasses and turning to him: "Fine, thank you. Work is progressing."

He nodded, his gaze sliding slightly to the side - as if he was running through a list of prepared phrases in his head.

Optimus (a little tensely): "And... how... is the weather today?"

Silence hung in the air. You raised an eyebrow slightly. The weather? In a workshop where there aren't even any windows?

You: "Um... sunny. Warm."

Optimus (seriously, but with a hint of embarrassment): "Good... warm weather is good... for your health."

He nodded, as if he had put a "checkmark" on a list.

You laughed slightly and folded your arms over your chest: "Optimus... are you trying to... small talk with me right now?"

He froze, looked down, and then quietly exhaled:

Optimus (a little awkwardly): "Sam said... that's what people do. It's... called 'hitting on'."

You clapped your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing too loudly: "Oh my god..."

Optimus took a step closer, trying to remain serious, and came up with another prepared line.

Optimus: "You look... uh... very... brilliant today."

You burst into laughter: "Brilliant?! Are you serious?"

He frowned slightly, but his eyes were embarrassed at this point.

Optimus: "I... I'm trying."

You, still laughing, rose from your chair and came closer: "Well... I have to admit, for a first time, you're doing... very nicely."

Bumblebee in the hallway (having overheard everything and unable to resist) turned on a recording of human laughter and applause, causing Optimus to flinch slightly and mutter.

Optimus: "...I knew he was listening."