20, transfem, my post is too long for one so I’m splitting it into comments.

For context this took place when I was around 13-14. At the time I wasn't really openly trans, except to two people, one of them doesn't matter, the other was Lyra.

Lyra was a cis chaser I met at an LGBTQ center on one of our meet and greets, a sort of way to see the older trans generation and connect them with the newer one. At the time she was 18 and probably the youngest adult there.

She had jobs housesitting and drawing and we bonded over stuff like love for cosplay, art, and both being somewhat furry adjacent. By the end we exchanged numbers because I told her how much I was struggling to draw, and she offered to teach me tips and tricks. We started to message and show eachother art, making some of our OCs, and the age gap was getting easier to forget. Things had been bad at home for a while, and I practically lived at two old friends' houses. It was understood I generally didn’t go home most days.

I eventually got into a fight and packed the small amount of stuff I did have at home and left saying they didn’t have to see me anymore and I would do fine on my own. Then I got hungry and tired and needed somewhere to sleep. My other friends were basically all sleeping and only Lyra answered when I told her what was happening. I told her not to call the police, so she ended up picking me up and we spent the night at some guys house she was sitting. Know my parents really did not and will not give a shit about me. They saw me occasionally but I was always attending school so nobody came looking.

When I had to go, she gave me an address to an apartment she shared, only using it to keep her stuff and sleep between jobs, and said I was welcome there if things ever got bad. Months later we started sharing her room and even decorating it with the art we made. It was honestly the best I had been treated in my life and I didn't regret living with her at that time