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"I am interested," Prowl admitted, the words sounding foreign and unfamiliar on his glossa.
Jazz stared at him, certain he had misheard. "Interested? In what? My amateur analysis of bridge engineering? Or my completely fabricated theories on energon cohesion?" He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Come on, your Grace. You don't have to play games. You caught me. Just tell me what the price is."
Prowl took a step closer, his movements deliberate and graceful. "It seemed to me," he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that sent a jolt straight to Jazz’s interface panel, "that in the ballroom, you were attempting to initiate a courtship. Or was I misreading the subtext of our conversation?"
Series
- Part 1 of A Terrible Cover
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Bookmark Notes:
Finished
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Bookmark Notes:
oh my god. excellent.