I laid curled up in his protective arms. I buried my head against his smooth chest. I could feel the smooth outline of what wasn't fat, but what wasn't muscle either. The only place that he really had muscle was his arms, from all the lifting that he did. And those arms laid wrapping my body in a tight, protective embrace. He'd always been protective of me. He hated to see me sad, or hurt. The small alarm clock rang, arousing him from his slumber. "Good morning." He said, looking at me. He'd always been a morning person. He could get up before the crack of dawn with ease.

"Since when is a morning ever good?" I mumbled into him, reluctantly extracting myself from his grip. He smiled at me, and sat up. He looked down at me from his perch on top of his hand. With his free hand he brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face. I sat up, and reluctantly walked to the bathroom. I turned the shower on to cold, and stepped into the arctic spray. I felt my body react to the cold, even colder than the stone room. I quickly showered, before changing into one of the many, similar maids outfits, giving the bathroom up to my brother.

He emerged a few minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. You could clearly see the white scars that criss-crossed his back. His long blonde hair lay plastered against his wet neck. He quickly pulled out a pair of black pants and a matching shirt, and dressed, before donning the torn and tattered tailcoat that he insisted on always wearing. He'd wear that thing till it completely unraveled. There was something about it, and no one knew what, that he was stubbornly proud of. I think it had something to do with the fact that he had bought it himself, one of the few things he could call his own.

That tailcoat and me. I was his, and his alone. I had always been his, and would always be his. I don't know what I could do without him. If we were ever taken away from each other, I'd be completely heartbroken. I wouldn't be able to go on without him. I don't quite know where we fell in love, but it was early on in our lives. We had basically been the only things that each other had. With virtually no family, just a father who all but disowned us, we were pretty much completely on our own.

And we learned to fend for ourselves quite well. He always had protected me, and he had sworn he would for the rest of time. I knew he'd keep that promise. He already had numerous times. Every time Frank had gone to lash out at me, Riff was right there, making Frank think twice. Every time I got hurt, he was there to comfort me, and erase the pain almost immediately. And he'd let nothing stop him from protecting me, no matter what the cost.