Fire.

I referred to you as the Fire because it’s a fitting description with someone as combustible as you and let’s face it – I’m water and we clash. We clash like swords but the thing about swords clashing is that iron sharpens iron and practice makes perfect, so little brother every time you swing I get to watch you grow. Taking a couple blows along the way is worth it to see you thrive, and sometimes I have to knock your weapon out of your hand, leave you defenseless, and then pick you back up just to remind you what real life feels like. Remember that no matter how deep we may cut each other, I will always be there to pick you up and be by your side.

As I watch you grow up, it’s hard to believe that you’re becoming a man, but I see you shine so bright that no shadow would dare come near you, and those that do learn quickly that they messed with the wrong person. You’re stronger than you know and I wonder sometimes – if you truly desired something, what could stop you?

You never learned how to shut up, and while your tongue is a catalyst for battle, your ability to always speak is actually one of my favorite things about you. You’re a piece of gold: already in your purest form, soft enough to still be molded, and valuable even to kings. You’re a golden fire. Sometimes loving you hurts, but being your big brother is worth a few burns.

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