A Trace of the Sun
By SMYGO4EVA

Optimus laid Elita's hand flat against the patch of metal, where he was warm, solid, and real.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked quietly.

Her lip plates pressed together.

She wanted to deny it, to find some way to escape this confrontation. It just hurt too much.

But she couldn't.

But she forced the words out. She had to say them, she realized now. She had to simply leave, turn her back on the pain and the grief of losing him in the war, but she knew that if she didn't just explain herself, if she didn't say and think about each agonizing decision she had made up to this point, in the end she would always look back and wonder.

Leaving without a trace, fleeing him and the emotions he invoked within her, was that of a coward, not a warrior.

Elita-One was many things, but coward was not among the list.

"Because I didn't want to be the one left behind," she admitted. Her nails scrapped lightly against his metal skin, and she fought the urge to clutch at him, as if her strong will alone would keep him there.