It's a definitely disturbing feeling; a crawling that's far from pleasant, but the knowledge that she's helping does wonders. So Optimus forces himself to the edge of tension and relaxation, holding himself still and simply holding back from what normally would involve a copious amount of shaking and writhing and trying to get the feeling out.

It's also becoming more and more obvious that if she did want to hurt him, she's could do so easily. Fatally. Trust wars with that tension, and his fingers curl in to low fists. Her banter is, at least, a distraction from that.

"As am I...as shown by my lack of such colors."