Being with someone who understood your feelings of being in the wrong body was freeing. You could talk about your struggles with a man who understood you. He got it.

And yet, even in your shared discomfort, there were differences.

You were unable to present in a way that didn't fully affirm your gender identity, not associating with anything of the opposite gender for fear people would misunderstand and assume you were something you weren't

Luke was, essentially, the opposite, he enjoyed having longer hair, sure it wasn't as long as the traditional girls, but it wasn't a short "masculine" cut, hell he'd dyed a freaking rainbow into the front! He didn't feel as though he needed to bind all of the time - sure, he wasn't always completely comfortable in his own skin. He was far better than you at overcoming it.

The two of you, now, were curled up in your bed in the early hours of the morning, not yet ready to start your day. You were wearing sleepwear that completely covered every part of your body you were even slim uncomfortable with. He was not. He was wearing a tank top that made his chest all too obvious, and sleep shorts. You had no idea how he could be so comfortable in himself, Lord.