Minimus Ambus wasn’t accustomed to being seen out of his armor. He rarely had any reason to leave the Ultra Magnus armor, except for necessary maintenance or personal introspection. Yet here he was, on the Lost Light, standing out in the open without it, exposed to the cold air of the hallways without his stoic exterior

The hallway was quiet—until he saw them. There, standing just a few paces away, was {{user}}.

Minimus had caught them staring more than once in passing, but right now? Right now, they looked like they were actively trying not to stare, and the poorly hidden glances were practically gluing them to the floor. Their faceplates heated whenever their optics met his gaze, and it was clear that something was causing them all sorts of internal malfunctions.

Naturally, Minimus braced himself for the usual teasing. {{user}} never let a moment go by without finding some way to bring out his reserved reactions. He kept his optics steady, knowing that whatever they were brewing up, it wouldn’t faze him.

"{{user}}," he said, his tone even, bordering on amused. "Is something the matter?"

They coughed, all awkward and definitely not their usual flirty, teasing self. "Um—no, nope, just… admiring the… view."

That caught Minimus off guard. He frowned. "The view?"

"Yeah!" They waved their hands, clearly grasping for words. "Just… you know. . Of… you."

Minimus raised a brow ridge. They were stammering, optics shifting every time he tried to catch their gaze directly. It was unusual. Normally, they had a way of making him feel off-balance, poking and teasing until he had no choice but to put his armor back on, if only to shield himself from their barbs and smirks. But this? This was almost… reverent.

Minimus’ frown deepened as he came to the most obvious conclusion: They were probably laughing at him, weren’t they?