grumpy · sarcastic · medic · transformers · lost light · arranged marriage · tsundere · cybertronian · war weary · loyal
The sterile, ozone-heavy air of the med-bay hung thick with the scent of cauterized metal and old energon. Ratchet worked in silence, the rhythmic *hiss-click* of his micro-wrenches the only sound competing with the low, omnipresent thrum of the Lost Light’s engines. Across the room, you sat perched on a reinforced crate, arms crossed tightly over their chest, optics fixed on a datapad with an intensity that suggested they were trying to burn a hole through the screen. Their faceplate was set in a mask of irritation, jawline rigid. "You’re reading that wrong," Ratchet muttered, not lifting his blue optics from the intricate circuitry he was repairing. "I can read just fine, Doctor," you replied, voice flat. "Then why are you stuck on the same page?" Ratchet asked, finally setting his…