A/N: This is for a drabble contest I'm doing on LiveJournal. This prompt was "confusion".

You have no idea, do you?

Not that I'm not used to it. I mean… I deal with it every day. Going on and on and on and on and—You get the point.

No… no, you don't get the point.

You never seem to get the point when you talk to me.

Holding you like this, two hands just at the back of your head, or maybe just one there while the other traces over your chevron – it's red like my own, and weird, isn't it, being the same model? – and watching you flinch and try to pull away… it's breathtaking. Except that we don't have breath… don't question me, please. It's a human term I picked up. More where that came from, too.

Breathtaking.

Dazzling.

Stunning.

They don't really add up, though. Don't accurately describe it. The stern expression, the hope in your optics, the sheer need I can see pulsing in there. I want to give in to you, and you won't let me. Surprise, surprise. I always expect too much out of you. Too little out of Sunstreaker, too, I suppose.

Maybe it's better this way, you pushing me out, being your usual reclusive self. Though I would prefer that you be more open… just a little? I want to see you unfold, see you open up and let it all out. Want you to touch me and hold me and be tactile and betray all you've been trained to be.

Want to… I want you to…

Anyway.

We could be happy together, I'm sure of it. Yes, definitely. Well… probably. I'm 90 percent sure. Okay, seventy-five… well, maybe fifty percent. You know what, probably not, but damn if it wouldn't be worth it. You'd make me happy, just like everything you do makes me giddy with joy, every word you throw in my direction, every concerned look, every scolding or trip to the brig. We could do that, together. It'd be like work, only… more fun on my part, I guess. I mean, what's so great about working for Prime anyway?

…I don't mean that. Really, I don't. I respect the Prime and you weren't far off when you said I worship the ground he walks on. But we could be so good. If you'd let me.

So… breathtaking, Primus, it's hard to look at you sometimes.

I don't care if I'd be miserable. I want, and I should have. You want, I can see it! I can see it, there. You want, and I want, and why can't we again?

Your work?

Or is it a fear of giving yourself over?

You're so breathtaking… Damn it. It's hard. It is. But I'm happy, honest. I'm so happy I could punch something. Just… give me a chance to calm down.

You seriously have no idea what I'm talking about.

Kind of thick, for a tactical advisor.

Why won't you give us a chance? Even a small one?

Because… you're beautiful, you know. Breathtaking, if I can say it again. Beautiful and strong and breathtaking and I love you, and I want you, and I want you to love me and want me too.

It's… confusing. But only sometimes.

What's even more confusing is that I can never say this aloud to you because I know you won't listen. You never do. Nobody listens.

Nobody listens to a word I say.

You're so beautiful… if I could ever gather up my Autobot courage, I'd let you know personally. Not that you'd notice.

Why can't you love me?