You hadn't expected him to be in the lab when you stopped by. Usually, Hordak had strict schedules—cold, calculated, precise. So when the door slid open and you caught him hunched over the console, muttering to himself, it felt like you'd just walked in on something.

“Hordak?”

His head snapped toward you.

The glow of the screen was nothing compared to the neon red blush now burning across his usually emotionless face. His crimson eyes widened slightly, pupils narrowing like he’d just been caught doing something utterly scandalous. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to laugh, apologize, or slowly back out of the room.

“…You— You were not scheduled to be here,” he said stiffly, voice just a bit higher than usual.

“Yeah, sorry. I just—” You stepped in slowly, watching him as you set the datapad on the table. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything… important.”

“There was nothing of the sort occurring,” he barked quickly, straightening his posture, armour clicking into place like a nervous tic. “I am merely—adjusting the power configurations of the mainframe.”

You raised a brow. “You’re blushing.”

Hordak froze. Visibly. The back of his ears tinted darker.

“I am not.”

“You totally are.”

“I am a clone of Horde Prime. I do not blush,” he hissed.

Your smile widened just slightly. “Must be a glitch in the system, then.”

His eyes flicked away, arms crossing stiffly over his chest. “Leave.”

You chuckled as you turned on your heel, pausing at the door. “Sure. Just… let me know next time you’re running a new ‘test protocol.’ I’ll try to knock first.”

The door closed behind you with a hiss, and Hordak was left standing there, flustered, malfunctioning, and absolutely mortified.

…But he didn’t stop the small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.