Nervous.
He was nervous.
He had raced into battle with an abandon that could only be described as 'reckless.' The same mech, who, had on more than one occasion, raced headlong into the thick of the 'Con frontline with little more than a determined grin. He'd even taken on their most feared trine of Seekers with his signature brand of style, grace, and humor, to emerge relatively unscathed.
And yet, here he was, that very same mech, nervous about going on a date.
…not just any date…
He shifted his weight from one pede to the other and back again; his gaze never leaving the door that stood silently passing judgment before him. Deep in his chest, his spark flickered and flared.
…I can do this…it's just a date…
He took a deep breath and felt it stall in his intakes.
…this isn't that hard…
He shuttered his optics, sealing them tight against whatever awaited him on the other side of the door.
…really, I can do this…
He reached out his hand, and cursed his audios for the phantom signals they sent. Surely, it wasn't his hand rapping so meekly on the door.
…it's just a date…
He could feel his cydraulic fluids turning to sludge in their lines. He stood there in a virtual stasis-lock, ready and nearly willing to run, but simply unable to move. His spark flared violently and erratically. His optics held firm. His vents refused to budge.
…just a date…
The distant hiss of the door sliding open echoed through his audios; clearly a glitch. It hadn't been his hand that had reached out, so the door couldn't possibly be opening now, could it?
"Finally! I was starting to wonder."
And with that, his stubborn intakes finally squelched back to life; triggering the release of air that had gone stale in his vents. His optics hesitantly slid open, and somewhere in his throat, tubing had become misaligned.
…I can do this…
He lifted his laden pede and stepped inside; the door closing gently behind him.