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Author's Note: What's this you say?
Another fic? Whatever is wrong with me? _- (my attempt at a wink...)
Just a light one this time, hope you enjoy it!
As always, happy reading!
Comments are always appreciated.
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Flat.
That was how Optimus Prime's optics looked to her as she stared into them. Flat, black, and completely and utterly devoid of life.
She pulled pointlessly at his lifeless fingers, not even moving them one inch.
"Optimus, Optimus! GET UP!" Her scream was primal and raw; an animalistic noise of pure grief.
She couldn't see him properly for the tears streaming down her face.
The hot scent of gunfire and ozone overpowered her senses, stinging her nostrils. It was strange to have the scent of battling Cybertronians mixed in with the heady scent of the torn-up earth of the forest.
She pulled at him again and again, refusing to believe that he was dead.
Strong fingers wrapped around her body, pulling her away from the fallen Autobot leader. She screamed and thrashed, kicking at the closed digits with every ounce of strength that she possessed.
She kicked and flailed her limbs, desperately wriggling to try and get out of –
"Lia, Lia! Shh, shh." Powerful fingers gently stroked her face, pushing her hair off her sweat-drenched visage.
She struggled to take stock of her surroundings. The surface beneath her was firm and cool, the finger gently pressed to her forehead safe and reassuring.
Optimus raised Cordelia to eye level, appraising her through worried optics. His finger moved from her forehead down to her clenched fists.
She was vaguely aware of a stinging sensation and looked down to see that the knuckles on her left hand were bleeding lightly.
She worked to calm her racing heart, concentrating on the feel of Optimus' fingers tenderly running up and down the length of her spine, using that to keep herself grounded in the present moment.
Optimus visibly relaxed as the rate of her respirations decreased.
Cordelia wrapped an arm around Optimus' thumb as a great wave of tiredness hit her.
Optimus cupped a hand around her back and rumbled, "easy little one. You have just burned through the last of your adrenaline. There is a surplus of cortisol in your system."
She didn't respond but gave a tiny nod to acknowledge his words, leaning gratefully against his curled fingers.
He ground his mouth plates together, concern etched across the mosaic that made up his face. He moved an index finger underneath her left arm and lifted it slightly to examine the damage to her knuckles.
He growled softly.
"You are injured little one. This wound needs to be cleaned."
Cordelia was appalled to find that hot tears were welling relentlessly in her green eyes. She rubbed at them furiously, not wanting them to fall.
She motioned to Optimus wordlessly, holding her arms out to him.
He understood what she wanted at once.
He drew her close to his vast chest, one hand cupped underneath the other for support. Through his pectoral armour she could hear the light humming of his Spark, a little quicker than usual.
It never failed to calm her and this instance was no exception. She concentrated on the ethereal noise that seemed to transport her to a different plane entirely, focusing on the way the hairs on her arms stood on end and the way that the metal beneath her heated gradually.
She inhaled deeply through her nose, blowing it out slowly through parted lips.
Since they had returned from Egypt, the same nightmare had plagued her unconsciousness almost every night.
It always started the same way – in that forest full of trees that were the same size as the mammoth Cybertronians who battled each other.
It was so vivid that she could feel the heat from Optimus' Spark when Megatron extinguished it. She felt the vestibular sensation in her ribs when Optimus' enormous body had crashed to the ground.
The ice that had painted a trail of dread and emptiness through her veins at his last words to her.
Run…
She shook her head and leaned heavily against Optimus' chest, resting her fevered cheek on the cool glass of his windscreen.
His weight shifted beneath her as he made his way over to his berth, lowering himself into a seated position.
"Were you dreaming again?" His face was a mask of indiscernible emotion, but his optics gave the game away, as did the subtle down-turn of his mouth plates.
She nodded the affirmative. "Yeah…that day in the forest." His fingers moved to stroke her back.
"Oh Lia, I don't know what I can do to help you." A mechanical whine sounded somewhere from deep within his body.
Cordelia smiled sadly at him. "You help me just by being here big guy. Just the sound of your Spark helps. I will never take that sound for granted again."
"I'm here for you little one, now and forever." His voice wavered slightly as his cerulean blue optics flared like twin supernovae, the intensity of his declaration seemingly setting his emotions ablaze.
"Then that's all I need," she said, nuzzling into his chest cavity.
.o
In the weeks since their return from Egypt, Cordelia had stuck to Optimus' side like glue.
She was with him when he was in debriefings with the Secretary of Defence, when he had meetings with General Morshower and various other individuals of notoriety within the military.
Gone was the was the innocent shape of her childhood body, replaced by the slender hour-glass figure of a young woman. Feminine cheek bones added an elegant frame to her petite face.
The freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks accentuated her emerald-green eyes. Eyes that had seen more than their fair share of trauma.
All in all, Cordelia had all but grown into her adult body, albeit at the tender age of sixteen.
She was presently wondering around the base, waiting for Optimus to emerge from his monthly 'tune-up' with Ratchet.
Optimus tried his best to avoid these check-ups, deeming them unnecessary and saying that he would go to Ratchet if he was, at any point, concerned for his health or well-being. Ratchet had merely laughed at his leader and threatened him not-so-jokingly with his famous wrench, stating that in medical matters, his own authority superseded Optimus'.
Soon enough she heard the familiar rumble of a Peterbilt 379's four-hundred-and-twenty-five horse power engine.
Optimus rolled out of the medical bay onto the hot tarmac, transforming in a seamless movement of shifting vehicle parts until he stood at his full twenty-eight-foot height.
His red and blue armour gleamed brightly under the sun's powerful rays, sending flares of rainbow light across Cordelia's field of vision.
He turned his head down to cast her in the gentle blue gaze of his optics.
"You've had a wash!" She observed, resting a hand on the wheel-arch that doubled as his ankle joint. "And a wax!"
His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck – a habit he'd developed when he was nervous or anticipating something unpleasant.
"You okay big guy?" Cordelia asked, arranging her auburn hair into a messy bun on top of her head so that she could keep it off her neck.
"Yes thank you. I thought that I had better…make myself look handsome for Galloway."
Cordelia snorted, clutching at her stomach in an effort to stop it hurting from laughing so much.
When she turned her face upwards again to meet his gaze, the confused upwards tilt of his optic ridges sent her into a fresh wave of hysterical laughter.
His hydraulics hissed as he knelt to regard her. "Was my statement comical? Should I present myself differently?"
Cordelia braced an arm on his bent knee for balance and patted it for good measure. "No, not at all Optimus. It was more your choice of…words that amused me. You look absolutely magnificent, very shiny!"
She noted with interest as a faint hint of purple creeped into the edges of his blue optics. A Cybertronian blush?
He offered her a wan smile. "What word should I have used then?" He rumbled, placing his hand palm-up on the concrete ground.
"There's nothing wrong with your word choice…just maybe it doesn't quite match the situation. To make yourself handsome for someone…implies that you are trying to attract their attention romantically." Cordelia said, settling herself into Optimus' palm, one arm hooked around his thumb.
The gentle whoosh of air ruffled her hair as he moved to stand. He didn't reach up to place her on his shoulder but started to make his way over to the main communications hangar where all the debriefings took place.
"Don't most humans in formal situations dress themselves in formal parts so that they convey the desired impression? For instance, at a job interview?" His down-turned optic ridges gave the imitation of a furrowed brow, further accentuated by the slight downturn of his mouth plates.
"Yes, but that is usually to impress the person who is interviewing them. I think that by you making yourself…presentable, you hope to make a good impression on Galloway?"
Optimus rumbled thoughtfully, his sonorous baritone resonating through Cordelia's torso. "Ahh, presentable. That would have been a more suitable word choice. It would seem that I still have much to learn about the colloquialisms of the English language."
"Anyway," Cordelia said, "I don't think you need to bother making an effort with Galloway. He didn't when you were…hurt. He's a vile man."
Optimus appraised her carefully. "Nonetheless little one, I am an asylum seeker on this planet and want to keep our relations with the humans as amicable as possible. That means respecting social customs."
Cordelia sighed and settled herself back against his curled fingers. "You're too nice, do you know that?" The hand she was sitting in twitched slightly with the motion of Optimus' quiet chuckle. "And," she continued, "if Galloway annoys you or disrespects you again, you can just smoosh him."
Optimus held her up to eye level and raised a quizzical brow at her. "I beg your pardon?"
She felt her cheeks redden as the usual rush of blood filled them. She knew he was only teasing her from the light tone of his voice, but she suddenly felt foolish. "Y'know…" she mumbled, "if he hasn't learned any respect for you guys since you saved the planet and all…you can just smoosh him. In your head anyway. I don't think the government would take too kindly to you smooshing their National Security Advisor."
Optimus surprised her by uttering a booming laugh. It completely transformed his face, and for the briefest second of eternity, he looked totally relaxed and carefree. Then his eyes took on a slightly glazed expression as he stared off into the distance at nothing in particular.
When Cordelia had expressed concern at this not long after meeting the Autobot leader, he'd reassured her that his optics took on that faraway expression whenever he was accessing the Internet.
" 'Smoosh – to press something into a pulp or flat shape.' Hmm. I would be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to perform that particular activity with Mr Galloway. However, you are right. I do not think it would be prudent to smoosh a high-ranking member of Congress. We Autobots must tread carefully, both figuratively and literally."
He ducked then to go inside the hangar, which was already a hive of busy activity.
Optimus approached the centre of the vast room, where the main catwalk had been arranged in a horseshoe shape to allow Optimus to easily converse without humans having to strain their necks or requiring Optimus to kneel down to address them.
It made Optimus uncomfortable to converse with NEST personnel at his full height as he felt that he was overpowering them and wanted to treat them as equals. The humans were also, understandably quite nervous about having several tonnes of metal suspended in the air just a few feet above their heads.
This was a solution that suited everyone.
Optimus reached up to place Cordelia on the catwalk. He gave her a small, surreptitious wink before turning to General Morshower.
Cordelia approached the hub-bub of activity that was going on towards the catwalk's centre.
The newly promoted Major William Lennox was chatting with an aide, gesturing to something on the screen of the iPad that she was carrying.
His face broke into a broad grin when he saw Cordelia approaching.
The Major's six-foot-three frame easily swallowed Cordelia's when he pulled her into an affectionate hug.
"How are you doin', 'Prime's girl?'" He asked, using Cordelia's unofficial nickname on the base. The NEST soldiers had christened her with it upon their return from Egypt.
"Yeah, not doing too bad thanks Will. Yourself?"
He grinned and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a beaten-up black leather wallet.
"M'good thanks. Annabelle has just turned two! I can't believe how quickly the time has gone. Do you wanna see a picture?"
Cordelia nodded eagerly and Lennox pulled out a passport sized photo of an adorable baby girl.
Annabelle had the typically chubby cheeks of a toddler, framed by honey blonde hair that fell in tight ringlets around her pretty face. Her eyes were doe-like and a striking shade of ice-blue. Her bow lips were turned up in a smile as she grinned at the photographer, one tiny milk tooth visible in the front of her mouth.
Cordelia handed the photograph back to Lennox. "Aww Will, she's beautiful. You must be so proud. When is your next leave?"
"In two weeks. I can't wait to see them both. Sometimes I feel as if my little girl grows another few inches every time I blink. Soon enough I'll be vetting the boys she brings home."
"I don't think you're quite there yet, Will," Cordelia said, offering him a cordial pat on his arm.
"Look sharp everybody! Debrief starts in t-minus sixty seconds!"
General Morshower's shout carried throughout the vast hangar, aided by the impressive acoustics that were created in the wide, open space.
Optimus took his place in the centre of the room, directly in front of the centre of the catwalk.
Cordelia took a seat off to the side, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself whilst the debriefing was going on.
Her green eyes tracked the path of the National Security Advisor, Theodore Galloway, as he ascended the steep stairs that would grant him access to the catwalk.
Bile rose in her throat as she caught a full glimpse of the vile man's weedy features.
Take that pile of scrap metal back to Diego Garcia!
Her mind reeled as his heartless words – relayed to her by Ironhide – flowed through her conscious thoughts.
She pushed them to the back of her mind, filing them away to be dealt with later and turned her gaze to Optimus.
Under the bright fluorescent lights of the hangar, Optimus looked less like a giant robotic organism and more like a regal knight from a distant land. His armour gleamed flawlessly, granting him gracefulness even when he stood motionless.
She watched the subtle changes in his body language as he watched the arrogant man cross the raised surface, making his way to Optimus' main field of vision.
Optimus' shoulders tightened by a fraction of a degree, evidenced by the barely audible hiss of air from the housings in between his joints. A faint scraping sound could be heard as he ground his lip plates together.
He shifted his weight onto his left foot, right hand clenching into a tight fist.
There was a tense, pregnant silence for a few seconds before Galloway began his tirade.
"Well, here we are again. Stood in front of a bunch of incapable soldiers and a bunch of even more incapable…glorified computers." He spat the last word out, making no effort to disguise the obvious look of disgust on his face.
"Can you honestly tell me, that that whole mess in Egypt would ever have happened, had you Autobots," here he sneered, "had never arrived on our planet?"
Cordelia curled her lip instinctively at his disrespectful address, taking note of the fact that he either did not notice, or chose to ignore the quiet but low, threatening growl that Optimus had emitted from his vocoder.
Lennox went to say something in the Autobots' defence, but was stopped by a rude 'stop' hand gesture from Galloway.
He turned away from the ignorant man, evidently working hard to control his emotions.
Sergeant Robert Epps was not so disciplined.
"In case you hadn't noticed, sir, the 'cons built that Harvester machine thing thousands of years ago! Before humans even spoke a distinguishable language!"
Galloway leaned over the railing to sneer down his nose at Epps.
"Need I remind you again, solider, that you are paid to serve this country and obey the orders of your superiors without question, not wade into intergalactic relations, when clearly, you do not possess the necessary intelligence to understand the situation."
Epps flipped Galloway the universal 'road rage' sign and stormed out of the hangar, muttering unintelligibly to himself.
Morshower fixed Galloway with a stern look. "That was uncalled for. You will apologise to Sergeant Epps once this debrief is over."
Cordelia was pretty sure that if Galloway had a tail, it would presently be tucked between his legs.
"Mr Galloway," Optimus rumbled, pitching his baritone voice to its lowest register, using the same tone of cold fury he'd used with Agent Seymour Simmons when he had intercepted the Sector Seven convoy. "To answer your question; yes. Yes that entire 'mess', as you put it, would have happened, with or without our arrival to your planet. As Sergeant Robert Epps correctly stated," he enunciated the word 'correctly', narrowing his optics at Galloway, "the Prime formerly known as 'Megatronus' constructed the Sun Harvester in the country known as Egypt. Then the early humans built their monolith, designation: 'Khufu', over the top of the Harvester. I cannot surmise as to why."
Galloway squirmed under the intensity of Optimus' penetrating gaze.
"Well, be that as it may, we have to address the global death toll that you caused –"
Optimus raised a hand, stopping Galloway in mid-speech.
"Allow me to correct you, Mr Galloway. We Autobots inflicted no such harm upon this planet's populace; that shame lies solely with the Decepticons. I regret every human life that has been lost due to the abhorrent actions of the Decepticons, but I will not allow blame to be placed upon my Autobots. Is that clear?"
Silence was Optimus' only answer.
Galloway took a few seconds to compose himself, readjusting his glasses and running a trembling hand over his slicked-back hair.
"It's a shame that that statement doesn't apply to –" Galloway paused, eyes combing the room.
They narrowed when they landed on Cordelia.
He made his way over to her, his stride aggressive and somewhat determined.
"What are YOU doing here? Who gave you clearance to be here? You are a civilian. You have no right to be here!"
He leaned down into Cordelia's personal space, a vein in his forehead throbbing with his enraged state.
Cordelia shied away from him, pushing back on the wheeled chair in an effort to increase the distance between them.
Optimus' face was a picture of cold fury. He reached up and pinched the back of Galloway's suit jacket between a thumb and forefinger, pulling him away from Cordelia none-too gently.
Galloway struggled for a brief second, pulling both arms free from the sleeves of the jacket. He had wriggled to such an extent that his previously groomed hair was now sticking up in odd places, giving him a dishevelled and rumpled appearance.
"Get your filthy hands off me! I will address whomever I like, HOWEVER I like!"
Optimus leaned down, pushing his face so close to Galloway that his chin bumped the railing.
"You will not intimidate Cordelia. If you must speak to her, you will do so in a polite and civilised manner. Do I make myself clear?"
He waited for Galloway to respond, his optics narrowed to their thinnest aperture.
"Seeing as how the power of speech has apparently deserted you; you will also not insert yourself into Cordelia's personal space. It's not so nice when somebody intimidating uses their size and status against you, is it?" Optimus' voice rose slightly at the last words, a little crack in the iron wall that was his self-control.
Galloway straightened his tie and sneered at Optimus, all his trepidation forgotten.
"You have no power over me. You are a machine, nothing more than a glorified, walking, talking device with fancy weaponry. You preach to me about how you aren't responsible for human deaths, yet you seem to have no problem allowing those close to you to sacrifice themselves for your worthless metal hide."
Optimus reared back as if Galloway had struck him.
Cordelia's mouth ran dry as her throat seemed to narrow of its own accord. Suddenly William Lennox looked very far away, as if they were both at opposite ends of a long tunnel.
A low mechanical whine sounded from Optimus' vocoder, the covers on his audio receptors beginning to spin furiously.
In contrast to how they had been only seconds ago, his blue optics grew large and round, almost fearful in their innocence and confusion at Galloway's accusation.
"I do not understand your meaning," Optimus said, his voice quiet and vulnerable.
Cordelia reeled internally. Galloway had found Optimus' vulnerable point and was poking at it with a red-hot poker, painting out his vulnerability and pain for all to see.
"Why is it okay for Cordelia to die in order to save your life, but not for you or your Autobots to accept the responsibility of the death toll of innocent humans?"
Nobody in the hangar said a single word.
The atmosphere was tangible as the great Autobot leader straightened to his full height so fast that the tip of one of his ear finials caught the light fixture directly above him, causing it to sway slightly this way and that.
Optimus' mouth opened and closed multiple times, but no words emerged from the Prime's parted lip plates.
His eyes met Cordelia's, and in that moment, a million unspoken words and thoughts passed between them.
She could almost see him buckling under the weight of the astonishing revelation. In his optics she saw his naked pain and hurt, rolling across their cyanic surfaces like stormy ocean waves.
Cordelia got to her feet, legs trembling with the anticipation of Optimus' inevitable reaction.
When they'd been aboard the aircraft carrier that had brought them back to Diego Garcia, Cordelia had sworn everybody to secrecy about the fact that she had…temporarily lost her life whilst trying to restore Optimus'.
What was the point of him knowing when it would only cause him undue distress and worry? He wouldn't be able to go back in time and change the course of events and nor would Cordelia want him to.
Her visit to the realm of the Primes had been necessary in order to save Optimus' life.
She'd do it all again in a heartbeat.
Without a single word, Optimus reached up and enveloped Cordelia's tiny body in his strong fingers, striding out of the hangar and into the late summer sunshine.
.o
He walked in absolute silence, cradling Cordelia protectively in his cupped palm. Cordelia hardly dared to breathe. Hot angry tears pricked at the back of her eyes, stinging like when she got salt water in them from swimming in the ocean.
He went to the base's very boundary at the north end of the island, where the white sandy beaches slowly morphed into the barnacle covered rocks that provided the barrier between land and sea.
He came to a slow stop, his shoulders sagging downwards harshly.
Cordelia squirmed uncomfortably in Optimus' palm, trying to work up the courage to look up and see the expression on his face.
When she did so, her heart sank when she saw that his noble face was a mosaic of downturned mouth plates and frowning optic ridges.
"Op…Optimus?" Cordelia breathed the words, hardly audible to her own ears. She knew he would hear her, and she was not disappointed when he acknowledged her question. The fingers in the hand that held her twitched infinitesimally, a movement so small that it would have been missed by anybody else.
An endless stretch of time hung in the air between them, painting an invisible wall.
Optimus seemed to sigh before he finally spoke.
"Cordelia…please tell me that what Galloway said was not true. Please tell me that you did not allow yourself to…perish just to revive me."
Cordelia could not stop a single tear from rolling down her cheek. She looked up at Optimus, her green eyes brimming with unshed tears, her hands locking into a vice-like grip on his index finger.
His returning gaze was full of nothing but sadness. Sadness mixed with a tinge of…disappointment?
Cordelia's sense of self began to get hazy as she began to lose control of her emotions. She was on a knife-edge, and the slightest push would send her into the oblivion that beckoned menacingly below.
Optimus raised her to his face and pressed his nose gently into her auburn hair, holding the tender contact for a few seconds before pulling back.
He appraised her through optics that denoted just a hint of heartbreak, running one finger delicately down her cheek, wiping away her sadness.
"Little one," he rumbled, his low voice husky with emotion. "Little one, do you know how much you mean to me? Do you know how much I love you?"
Cordelia found that she could not answer him, but pressed herself into his fingers, desperate to eliminate all space between them.
He dipped his head forward and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead with a quiet click of his mouth plates. Kissing was not something that came naturally to him, yet he did it without question or complaint, just to bring her comfort and make her feel a little better.
The very least she owed him was an explanation.
She took a deep breath and began to speak.
"When you…when you were killed, my whole world crumbled right then. It was like everything that was safe and familiar fell out from underneath my feet and I was left staring into this endless, black void.
"I didn't know myself. It was like I saw myself screaming over you; pulling at your hand in a stupid, futile attempt to get you to stand up. My mind knew that you were dead. I couldn't hear your Spark, your optics were completely flat and black…yet my heart would not accept what I knew to be true.
"I could not accept that you had died. The first person in my entire life who had accepted me without question; baggage and all. I could not comprehend a world where you did not exist. All I wanted to do was follow you.
"To cut a long and unnecessary story short…when I was granted the chance to bring you back, I jumped at it. No one or anything was going to stop me from hearing your Spark again. Not for all the world."
Optimus' low mechanical moan sounded as he digested her words, deep in thought, indicative by the rate at which the covers on his audio receptors were turning.
Cordelia sucked in a shocked breath when she saw that Optimus' optics had gone suddenly misty, silently spilling pure water from their inner corners. The liquid fell almost gracefully down through the gaps in his facial plating with some coming to rest in the groove of his triangular nose.
"Do you know what my biggest fear is, Lia?"
She shook her head, pulling herself into a standing position on his broad palm so that she could wipe away some of his tears with the back of her hand.
He leaned into her touch, closing his optics against the onslaught of his emotions for a brief second.
"My biggest fear is losing you. In an incredibly short amount of time, I grew very fond and protective of you. What shocked me most of all…is that I grew to love you. I love you irrevocably. From the moment that I first saw you…I knew that I would do anything to safeguard your life. It was just that simple.
"When I was a youngling, my mentor, a bot by the name of Sentinel Prime, told me of a legend that had been told for eons on Cybertron.
"The legend is told as follows: when a Cybertronian, be they Autobot or Decepticon, finds a person, Sparkmate or purpose to love, protect, defend, whatever it may be, it will cause that mech's Spark to change it's melody.
"Each Cybertronian's Spark emits a totally unique frequency that is different for every Transformer that has ever emerged from the AllSpark. It is not dissimilar to the identity signal, or 'signature whistle' of the native Tursiops species that dwell within the ocean. When this Transformer comes across such an…entity that induces these instinctive feelings, a Spark mutation occurs.
"The frequency of that mech's Spark changes to match that of their object of protection. In nearly all cases it is another mech that causes this mutation to take place within the Spark.
"In my case, it was rather different. Over the weeks of getting to know you, my systems became attuned to your unique biometrics; the average rate of your respirations, your resting heart rate. Your habitual behaviours…
"I noticed my Spark was beginning to slowly change its frequency. Our Sparks are our very life force; they contain our memories and very personalities. In order to effectively store that information, they contain data. This is what gives them their unique frequency identification.
"What astounded me was that the strings of data within my changing frequency were beginning to match up with your biophotons. I consulted Ratchet on this matter, unsure if you were aware of my biotechnological changes.
"Ratchet informed me that a biophoton has a visibility one thousand times lower than the sensitivity of the naked Oculi Hominum. However, my systems are able to detect these particles of light as part of the visible electromagnetic spectrum."
He paused, waiting for her reaction.
Cordelia's brain was firing at over one hundred miles per hour. She was desperately trying to process what Optimus had told her as quickly as possible.
"So basically…your Spark changed its…identity to match with my bio – thingies?"
Optimus nodded the affirmative.
"Indeed. In short…you have become my Spark singer Cordelia. In Cybertronian, it is known as a Cantare."
He held her against his chest and she heard for the first time, the true sound of Optimus Prime's Spark.
"You walk among titans little one, and your open heart has tamed this mech's lonely Spark."
They were each silent for a few minutes, merely content to sit and absorb the truths that they had gifted one another.
He raised her to eye level again. "Do you understand now? I love you with all my Spark, with everything that I am." His optics flared to a brighter, more saturated blue as he spoke.
"I will never forsake you, ever. I will love you for until the end of time, and after that, eternity."
His words made her throat ache. She kissed the tip of his thumb.
"Me too big guy. Always and forever."