Susan drew a fantastic Drift and I just wrote this thing up really quick to go with it because I couldn’t help myself.
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He hasn’t been gone long, but every passing moment stretches like an eternity and it feels like—
He made the right choice.
He knows he made the right choice.
He touches his chest, the pain of his damaged plating nothing compared to the pain in his spark. He had scraped off as much of the insignia as he could, but the red paint still marks him. A bot like him wasn’t meant to have a home, a family. He was always meant to—
He can feel the echo of gentle fingers, woven between his own; whispering his name between words of affection, love, desire. A soft touch and a kind smile that he doesn’t deserve, could never deserve.
He remembers what home feels like.
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Originally from new low of my life