Skyward
By SMYGO4EVA
Optimus knew that it was impossible to touch a star. A star wasn't solid, and he knew for sure that it wasn't tangible. It looked beautiful, but it wasn't really there.
Arcee felt the same way. She was there on the planet Earth, a foreign planet, yet it felt like home, pedes to the dirt, feeling the wind scatter the dust upon the ground.
"Optimus," she spoke, bowing her helm in the Prime's direction, her optics with the sort of knowing happiness not acquired on Earth, but back on Cybertron. "It is good to see you again."
When Arcee looked up to see him, the Prime's vision nearly swelled and shattered at the sight. The sight was that of a warrior having fought a battle and surviving, living.
Stars—they were vast and luminous spheres of plasma held together by their own gravity. They were nothing more, and nothing less.
Optimus knew differently, that Arcee's presence was a gift, just like the stars, reaching skyward.