✘ "What am I to you?"
Rung sets down a floral-themed teacup in front of Tarn, full nearly to the brim with fragrant jade tea, with a dense scone tucked onto the saucer next to it.
“I admit you were a curiosity, at first,” he starts slowly. “Megatron spoke so highly of you. He spoke highly of many of the mecha he knew, but I could tell he held you and a few others in a category apart.”
The antique’s plunking sweetener by the little compacted cube into his own tea. It’s likely to turn to sludge. “He’d tell me stories while I was recovering. Most of them were of worlds I will never see, of mechanisms I will never meet… But there were always names he promised to introduce me to. To finally put a face to some of them has been more than I could have dreamed of.”
The last sweetener cube refuses to fully dissolve. Rung takes a sip anyways, somewhat gratified by the grit of it against his denta.
“I would like to consider you a companion, if I could. Or a close friend. An inamorato, as old a term as that is, maybe, if you’re comfortable with the thought. But if you’re only humoring me for Megatron’s sake I assure you that you needn’t make yourself put up with me. I would still be happy for you two if you decided to reconcile and spend time together without my involvement.”












