Whenever people talk about him, the concepts become less distant. You hear how cocky he's notable for, but it translates into confidence and the way he knows exactly what you need to learn. His dependency is familiarity to you, despite how neither of you seem like you need each other- and as you try and tether away from him, you think about his independence and how he never quite trusts anyone, but still lets you dance however works for you, like you haven't knocked him off his feet. You'd like to imagine you've done so more than once, but you wouldn't dare express those thoughts to the mind they're coming from.
Somehow his always incomplete state- the fighting outfit, the tucked-away blaster, the hair and its direction of influence that day- becomes as comforting to you as your own parka, your own worked muscles and ample climbing build, your own unique skin that never looks quite like the other princesses you only stay with out of convenience.
Somewhere along the way, you become okay with both of these things.
Still, as close as he is, he is still far away. There are some concepts about him that never quite flesh out. Concepts like fighter, mercenary, pilot, Corneria, blaster, bounty, or all the other things you don't know because you never ask. The ones you have learned- cold, winter, starvation, loss, hunger, tradition, silence, invisibility, death- can't be prescribed to him. Or at least, you won't let it happen.