A/N: Originally written as a kink meme fill.
Phoenix Wright,
I've never had the courage to write anything of this sort before. I'm sure I've felt something of the sort, though I can't quite recall the occasion. And it's not as though I've never experienced a relationship (although it's mostly been one-night-stands with men I'd never seen before and hoped never to see again). But I've never felt anything quite like this – this strength of feeling, this willingness to make myself completely, totally, irrevocably open to you and make myself seem like a fool to everyone around me, if it just means I get to see your smile. I understand that you won't, can't and will never feel the same way. That's why I'm not going to sign this; because I sense that will cost me any sort of connection with you.
I guess that begs the question: why am I writing this? I heard a rumour; someone told me that you have cripplingly low self-esteem and (utterly insane as this seems to me) expect to be a lonely bachelor for the rest of your days. I'm writing to ensure you know you're lovable, and that anyone you choose would be lucky to have you. I know that you're going to have that happily ever after you are (apparently) unwilling to dare to dream of. And I'm going to keep writing until I am certain that you know it too.
With all my love,
A secret admirer.
Phoenix Wright,
What I love is the way you say "Objection!" You hold your arm, straight, long, as though you're absolutely certain about what you're about to say (even when you're not). I suspect that's because, even when you lack faith in your own statements, you have faith in your clients. That faith is what makes you stand tall and confident, even when I know you're not.
I have to admit that I'm somewhat jealous. I wish you had that faith in me.
A secret admirer.
Phoenix,
I love how you're always able to find the money to feed your assistant's insatiable appetite for burgers, even when you're struggling to pay the rent.
A secret admirer.
Phoenix,
I love how you pretend you know about Steel Samurai. You don't; you made that painfully clear in court today, when you claimed that (and I quote), "He could easily have killed the victim, even if they were lovers. After all, didn't the Steel Samurai kill the Wicked Magistrate to save the Pink Princess, only hours after their affair in the Canyon of Doom?" You see, (a) it's the Evil Magistrate, (b) the location you're referring to is the Valley of Darkness, (c) those events happened in a popular work of fanfiction and are not canon and (d) much as I regret to say this, Steel Samurai/Evil Magistrate never happened in the show. I like how you try, though, to impress your assistant Maya (and your rival, Edgeworth) with your 'knowledge' of their favourite show.
With love,
A secret admirer
Phoenix,
I love how you always wear that blue suit, every day. It brings out the colour of your eyes. You look quite handsome in it. I also love the spikes of your hair. They show your uniqueness. I have to ask, though, how you can afford the hair gel...
A secret admirer
Phoenix,
I love how you keep faith in someone, even when everyone else has lost hope. And I love how you are, more often than not, right.
A secret admirer
Phoenix,
I love how you smiled, when you saw my last letter. I loved how you looked around the room, almost furtively, as though trying to catch me, watching you, watching me. I love how you hide it in a stack of legal documents, so you can read it straight away in court. I love how you look genuinely surprised when you see what it says, as though you really didn't know what I was going to say (even though someone like you can't possibly have such cripplingly low self esteem). I love how you get this very, very slight blush (just the tiniest edge of pink on your cheeks) after reading it. I love how you put it in your pocket, carefully, as though it was something precious, something you'll want to read again. I love how you look around again, as though your brain is tick-tick-ticking away, trying to figure out who I am. I love how you can manage to not discount me automatically, despite my somewhat stalkerish interest in you. I love how you can have that sort of faith, even in me.
A secret admirer.
Dear Phoenix,
I love how, when you smile, you grin, showing all your teeth. It's infectious and makes me want to smile too. You wrap your smile around everyone else, carrying us with you.
A secret admirer.
Dear Nick,
I love how you pick up on the tiny details that others miss. I can't help but admire that razor sharp intelligence that you do your best to hide behind a goofy grin. You're not methodical or linear, but you have these flashes of genius that no one else has. And somehow, incomprehensibly, you don't give yourself credit for that. If you learn to trust your instincts you'll be unstoppable. Actually, thinking about it, that might not be good for me. I don't want you guessing my identity!
Love always,
A secret admirer.
Miles Edgeworth,
I know I haven't ever written this sort of thing before. I'm not sure how it's meant to go, though I am pretty damn sure I'm out of my league. And I know that I don't have half the guts you do – even feeling what I do, I wouldn't have the guts to send it, not without reassurance that you feel the same way. I'm not so brave.
So, here's the thing: you might have heard a rumour about low self-esteem on my part (which, I guess, wasn't completely untrue). But, what you don't seem to realise is that your self-esteem isn't that much better. Honestly, how can you not realise that I might feel the same way?
I figured it out through little things. How you seem to know what I'm like in court. How you're a fan of Steel Samurai, but think that I won't realise and connect it to you (since most people I know don't watch it). How you always seem to be around, watching, when I get your letters. How you seem to know me in a way that no one else does. (Well, maybe Maya.)
So, without further ado, in response to your nine letters saying why you love me, I'm going to list some reasons that I love you. Here's ten reasons – one for each of your letters and another for luck:
1) I love how, when you say objection, you're not angry or passionate. You have this calm about you. You know what you're doing, and you're always about ten steps ahead of me.
2) I love how, when you think no one's looking, or when you think they won't realise it's you, you do these little things to help them. Little tiny things. Like, when I'm busy on a case and haven't had a chance to eat, you get Gumshoe to bring us sandwiches, claiming that they're from him. Or, when I come out of a trial, I find a plate of burgers waiting in the defence lobby – enough for Maya and me. Or, when I haven't had enough sleep, you find a pretext to ask the judge for a recess, so I can catch a few minutes shut-eye and come back to the trial refreshed.
3) You might always work to keep up this facade of being a big, scary prosecutor, but you're not. I know you wrote that Steel Samurai fanfic, the one about the Steel Samurai and the Evil Magistrate, in the Valley of Darkness, where the Samurai kills the Magistrate. I also know that you deny it every time Maya asks you about it, then blow your cover by writing in a scene where the Pink Princess orders a stack of burgers for everyone, just because you know she'd like it.
4) I love how you wear the magenta in court, every day. Anyone else would be uncomfortable or awkward in a colour so close to pink. You're not. You have this confidence about you that helps you pull it off. You look so hot in it, and don't even realise.
5) I love your sense of honour. Even when we were kids, you stuck up for me that time someone stole your lunch money. No matter that everyone was against me, and no matter how people looked at you. You were still willing to protect me, even though we barely knew each other. It's the same in court. Your honour compels you to search for justice, even after being told that winning is everything. You've somehow held on to that, even through everything that's happened. You have so much integrity.
6) I love how you secretly watched, every time you gave me a letter. The first couple times, I didn't notice, but eventually I started to realise... I love how, when I smiled, you smiled back, and I love how, somehow, despite everything, you managed to look nervous. You're so scared I'll figure out who you are, and yet you risk so much to watch me. I love that.
7) I love how you smile, quietly, at the little things no one else sees. I love how, after everything you've been through, you're still able to do that. I don't think I'd have your courage.
8) I love how you're able to be so calm and collected, unflustered, in the face of everything. It makes me feel less scared, just for a moment, when I like at you. Well, except when I'm facing you in court – then I feel terrified. You always manage to keep me on my toes.
9) I love that look in your eyes when you look at me. You try to suppress it, but it's there. Like you'd run over burning bridges for me. Like you'd be willing to listen to me ramble on for hours. Like you'd still be there even after discovering about my obsession for hyper-clean toilets (it's about the germs, alright?). I know that when I look at you, I have a similar look in my eyes, that I try to hide too.
10) I love that you wrote me that letter, telling me how you feel, so that I'd have the courage to write to you, too.
Come over the office later, yeah? I'd like to chat a bit. Maybe we can go on a date? Or, skip the date, and do things that we really wouldn't want to tell Maya about the next day? I'm happy to go along with anything you'd like.
Love,
Your secret admirer.
