8 <> Yellow

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"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you," – Yellow by Coldplay
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A/N: I'm cursed to get too many good ideas while I'm already writing a book. I don't like working on multiple stories at a time, it never ends well for me. I really need some more TFA Optimus in my life rn tho.
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Optimus stepped out of the ground-bridge into the forest.

When he'd left through his own bridge from the Artic, and witnessed the chaos that surrounded Bulkhead's collapsed frame, you had sprung to his processor almost immediately. The poor mech had been exposed to Tox-En for far too long, and was struggling to hold onto life by the time the Prime arrived. Bulkhead had been moved to a medical berth, and Ratchet operated on him from there.

As Optimus walked through the dim forest, he felt the dread prick at his spark at the thought of telling you the news. His optics wandered as he subconsciously attempted to distract himself from the thought. His gaze swept through the brightly colored, cluttered trees, across the stripes of light that managed to get passed the leaves and branches trying to hide the sky.

You'd known the Wrecker for so short amount of time and already considered him a good friend. How would you react when you heard he'd nearly lost his life? How would you feel when you heard he might never be the same again?

   The Prime lulled himself into a false sense of security in the strange peacefulness of nowhere. Your oddly homey nowhere. The Prime could see why you liked it here. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he noticed you.

   You lay on your stomach, your legs waving slowly and playfully in the air. You wings were held high in a relaxed position. Your mask was loosely attached to your helm, showing a sliver of your warm grey faceplates. You hadn't noticed the mech quite yet, despite his large frame causing strong vibrations on the round. You'd known he was coming; he contacted you about his arrival as he left the base.

Not a second later, you finally noticed Optimus. You froze from embarrassment, wondering how long he'd been there before you snapped out of your own little world. You glanced back at the sight, before deciding your visitor absolutely needed to see it too. You held a digit to where your lips were (or would be, if he could see your face), and then motioned for Optimus to come forwards.

Confusion was obvious on the ex-archivist's face, but he did as you wanted anyways. Optimus' pedesteps were hushed as he quietly shuffled over and knelt by your side, directing his attention to where you where pointing silently and excitedly.

He found it. What you'd been so stolen by. An adorable doe and her fawn were having a private meal together. Sunlight peeked in from above and splashed onto their warm, brown hide and big eyes.

Optimus' optics widened as he watched, and allowed himself to get lost in this one moment, one of the few occasions where the war that ravaged the minds and sparks of millions of his kind was irrelevant. He moved his pede forwards in an attempt to get closer to the sight, but all he managed to do was alert the wildlife and watch them escape.

"Welp," You spoke up after a couple seconds, giving your signature awkward shrug and laugh, "that was nice while it lasted."

"Indeed," Optimus replied after taking a brief moment to find his voice. "I am always grateful for times like these." He offered a servo from his kneeling position as you sat up. You took his servo, your small clawed one in his large, blunt, heavy-duty digits. The Prime helped you stand up, and you dusted any dirt that clung to your frame.

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