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You remember the first time he called you Princess.

You were six. You'd been tossing a ball around together in the park behind both your apartment complexes and you tripped, falling flat on your face. It was funny looking back on it, but it was also all the pain a six-year old could bear and you balled your eyes out.

He told you to "Suck it up, Princess."

At least, you think that was the first time. You don't remember much from your early childhood. Moments like that, they really stood out.

You remember he pushed you into the pool later that day, fully clothed with a grin on his face.

You only became friends because you lived near each other, but because you were so close together, it was much easier to develop the same interests because you were usually together when you discovered them. He took a belated interest in your sci-fi movies the same way you did his raps, but you really enjoyed swordfighting, like his big Bro.

And when Bro died, it was a blow to both of you.

It was as sudden as it was expected- though you do wish you didn't have to be there when it happened. You still have nightmares about that goddamn sword sticking through his chest when he landed in front of you at the bottom of the stairs.

You probably wouldn't believe what his last words were if you hadn't been there yourself to hear them.

"That was so fucking sick."

Needless to say, there wasn't anymore swordfighting after that and Dave doesn't choose the characters with the swords in video games anymore. He chooses the ones with guns, or with clubs, or chainsaws, or nunchucks. Anything but swords.

You were twelve when Bro died and he was thirteen. Now he lives with you.

"Like a big brother!" You'd exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood, but it just set him off and you two ended up fighting a lot for those first few weeks. Your guardian was considering dividing up the house with a line of tape on the ground so that you could each have your own territory, but let go of the idea when you finally stopped fighting Dave's fifth week there.

After that, your relationship felt different. He felt... Far away. And you didn't know how to fix it, so you avoided brother references at all costs and buried your swords in your closet. They were Bro's, and Dave didn't want them. You couldn't bear to throw them away, so they've been sitting behind stacks of sci-fi movies, collecting dust over the years.

You pick up fencing when you turn fourteen.

It's kind of the same as swordfighting, but not really, so Dave doesn't get up in your grill about it. Well, most days.

"Princesses shouldn't be fighting with swords, anyway." He said across the table while you were doing homework.

"Princes shouldn't get up Princesses' asses about their hobbies," you shot back, smug.

"Ahh, but that's where you're mistaken, Princess. Knights can do whatever the fuck they want." He smiled, and you felt like he was himself again. It'd taken some time, but the tension finally snapped and he was your Dave again.