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"Albedo?"
The alchemist looked up at the soft inquiry of his name. He was sitting and reading at the desk in his room at headquarters, a room that barely saw any use before he started seeing the timid woman currently standing in his doorway.
"Yes, Sucrose?" Albedo replied, closing his book and shooting a glance at the clock. It was far later than he thought it would be, as was evident by the long nightgown that his darling girlfriend had hanging off her narrow shoulders in such an endearing way. She had a pillow hugged to her chest, and her glasses were nowhere to be seen. Albedo stood and made his way to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and closing the door behind her.
"What's kept you up tonight, my dear?" he asked her, his voice gentle. She hesitated for a moment, then walked further into the room and took a seat on the edge of his bed. She was quiet. Albedo figured that she would talk when she wanted to, or not at all, and went back to his book. He moved his chair so that he was at an angles to the bed, allowing Sucrose to read over his shoulder if she wished.
After a few minutes of this silence, broken only by the turning of pages, Sucrose spoke up.
"I've been having some... unhappy thoughts," she said softly, her pillow on her lap now as she traced patterns on it with the tips of her fingers. "About my identity, I suppose."
Albedo closed his book, dog-earing the page, and set it aside. He turned to look at her. "What do you mean by that, darling?" he asked, still gentle. Sucrose gave a small sigh.
"You're... a man," she replied, squeezing the pillow slightly. "Not that- that I have any problem with that, that's perfectly alright! You- you know I like men. But that's sort of my problem, with those thoughts... Sometimes I just feel like- like maybe I'm faking it. Saying I'm attracted to men and women but dating a man anyway. Like I just want to be a part of something."
Albedo frowned. He reached over to take her hands into his. "Sucrose, stop torturing that poor pillow," he said, to lighten the mood a little. "Who told you that?"
Sucrose looked down at their hands. "My parents used to. And an old friend of mine. They said that I was just trying to be special, or trying to get attention. And sometimes I still think about that, like that. Especially recently. I... wanted to ask you if you would be okay to go to the festival with me, but I'm scared of being rejected because I don't look homosexual, because I'd be there as a woman with a man."
Albedo listened to her quietly, squeezing her hands reassuringly when she finished.
"Sucrose, love," he replied, "it doesn't matter if other people think you're lying. You know that you aren't. You've confessed to having feelings for women before, and I believe you. You're not the type to lie for attention. You're not the type to do anything for attention, really." Albedo smiled at her. "You're whatever you say you are, sweetheart. You say you'd just as quickly kiss a woman as you would a man, I'll believe you. If you say you are a man, I'll be there for you too. Whatever it is, darling, as long as it feels right."
Sucrose looked like she was about to cry. Oops.
"Th- thank you, Albedo," she said, smiling softly. "I really, really appreciate that."
Albedo grinned and pressed another kiss to her face, on her forehead this time. "And I would be honored to go to the festival with you."
They fell asleep that night in Albedo's bed, with Sucrose pressed against his chest like a cat and his hands in her hair, playing idly with the long strands.