The break room was almost empty. Soft light reflected off the walls, and the quiet hum of the systems was the only sound.

Optimus sat with his back against the edge of the table, holding an Energon cube in one hand. He ate slowly, unhurriedly, more out of habit than hunger.

And then he noticed you.

You walked past, focused on your thoughts, and were almost through the door when his voice gently stopped you:

" Darling... if you're not in a hurry, come here for a moment."

You stopped. Turned. Came closer.

"Something wrong?" — you asked, leaning slightly toward him to get a better look at his face.

He didn't answer right away.

Optimus put the cube down for a moment, then raised his hand and very gently cupped your face in his—not squeezing, just holding it, as if afraid to frighten the moment. His thumb barely touched the line of your cheek.

You froze.

He picked up the Energon cube again, bit off half, and for a second his gaze lingered on your optics—warm, dark, too aware.

"I wanted... to share," — he said quietly.

And he leaned toward you.

You smelled the Energon, the warmth of his breath, the distance between you disappearing. His palm still held your face, preventing you from pulling away—but not forcing you either.

And the next second, his lips touched yours.

Slowly. Confidently. With the taste of energon between you.