“What name do you… wanna go by, then, sunshine?”

Hancock’s voice was tentative. God, he didn’t wanna say the wrong thing. He didn’t want you to struggle any more than you were. Hell, it took guts to even come out to him. He kicked a rock with his boot, walking along the road in the dilapidated neighborhood you were both passing through.

He cleared his throat and looked over at you for a brief moment, “Hey. Listen, I’m not mad at you or anything. I love— hey, stop. Stop for a second and look at me.”

Hancock held your arm, pulling you both to a halt, and turned you to look at him. “I’m not mad. I love you, and I will always love you, okay? You’re perfect. Now tell me what name you wanna go by, and tell me how I can make you feel comfortable. I’m here for you, you feelin’ me? I’ll support you no matter what.” His fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.