I, Miles Edgeworth, professional prosecuting attorney, had an inner debate. Should I knock on his door, should I not? Should I, should I not? It seemed that the more my eyes drove into the office's doorframe, the more I wanted to leave. And yet…
A knock was heard. I suppose – in the end – my body won the argument, as my feet had already stepped into the small office space.
There – near the window overseeing this clear, sun-doused day - my enemy, my teacher, my obstacle, my goal, my hated, my feared, and my adored sat at his desk. The nameplate, "PHOENIX WRIGHT: ATTORNEY AT LAW" assured my eyes that I had arrived where my heart did not want to be.
He looked up from his sloppy stack of paperwork and greeted me with an unfamiliar furrow of the eyebrows and slight tilt of the head. Plainly, the man was confused.
"Wright, I wish to speak with you." As I approached, I could sense a mysterious excitement in his eyes. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking…?
"Ah, about tomorrow's trial…" He stood from his seat, his eyes returning to their professional color. How I longed for the professionalism to just melt away and reveal something a little more tender. That tenderness… It's what I long for, but it's also that something that scared me more than anything.
"It's not the trial, Wright." I had to break eye contact. That was the only way for me to keep up with my façade. "If things continue the way they're going, you can well assume that the verdict will be not guilty."
"I thought this was all a competition to you." He mumbled accusingly. Does he bear a grudge? "Suddenly, you don't care about your guilty verdict? You've changed, Edgeworth."
I felt my lip curve. What could I say? "The truth is what I care for, Wright. Not winning." Though a bit daft, he has always been a very perceptive man. I have many a memory of him and I back in grammar school together… It was always him to break me from my insecurities.
He dismissed my speech with a quick shrug.
"Please, Wright. Save the remorse. I'm here… to spend time with you." Naturally, it was after I said it that I realized how unnatural it sounded. I cursed myself inwardly for never being able to speak what was truly on my heart. At that point, I wasn't sure whether to put the blame on my weak self, or to blame it on von Karma for disallowing affection.
"Spend time with me?" His voice rose with disbelief. There was such a horribly twisted look on his face… "Since when has my presence ever mattered to you?"
A shot to the heart. Why is he looking at me like that? Does he… hate me? What have I done to make him hurt me like this? Because I was unsure how to respond, I questioned him further, "What do you mean, Wright?"
Though he laughed outright, it was void of emotion. "C'mon, seriously? You come over here to spend time with me? Is that really what you want?" That question struck a chord, but of course, I would not indulge in what I really wanted. "Or are you here just to rub salt in like you always do?"
I was truly taken aback. Why the animosity? "If I've hurt you in anyway, I apologize, I-"
"Just get out." Phoenix Wright shook his head hard and returned back to his seat, as if the paperwork mattered more than his guest. "Sometimes I think it would've been better if you never came back at all."
Oh, that's it. I left. But why…? For some unknown reason, I decided to stoop to his childish level. Without much forethought, I walked to his desk and lowered my face to his, giving him complete attention. "Wright, spell it out for me."
"You left me, Edgeworth!" My unattainable man fumed, emotion reigning in his voice, "First, when you left school, I went looking for you. You meant… so much to me, I did all I could to find you. You were my inspiration for becoming the man I am today. You…"
Words failed me. I felt astounded that he felt so strongly for me, and even more so that he was able to speak such feelings without fear.
Perhaps today… I could…
However, as Wright continued, his words became less and less genteel, "But, when I finally found you, you left me again without a word! God, I thought- I thought there wasn't anyone so self-centered… I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe all the thought and consideration I put into a worthless person like you."
How was I supposed to tell him now? What I hoped for… what I avoided all these years, but nonetheless wished for… Everything I had believed in up 'til then had been shattered at his hands. He's always had that power over me.
If only he'd give me one more chance… It's now or never, Miles.
I took a long look at his face. It was stuck in painful misgiving, his eyes fleeted from my own, and his cheeks were drenched in a red hue. Obviously, he wanted me out. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was regretful for showing such weakness. But perhaps not.
After I found my long-lost voice, I asked him, quietly, "May I speak?"
"I don't give a damn anymore." He grumbled to his desk. I noticed his hands tremble while he attempted to get back to his ever-important work.
I paused, collected my thoughts, and heaved my chest for a sigh, "You were always important to me."
Another pause. "Proof."
"I'm sorry?"
"Where's your proof?"
"My… evidence…?" I had no other words to offer him. Of course, I could never say what I truly felt for him. I could never tell Phoenix Wright that I loved him. And I could never tell him the power he had over me, or that I genuinely wished for his presence, or that I wished to be near him now. Because I lacked proof. After all, what exactly have I done for him to show that I care?
I've left him, and now he's abandoned me. I ran away from what I feared the most; him. I am a coward; maybe a mistaken realist or pessimist. After all, I understood too well that the one I set my eyes on is someone who is – regrettably, yet predictably – unattainable. Phoenix Wright: you're the only one who could evoke such emotions… I am a fool for loving you so much.
Frozen, I stood, waiting for something more to happen. But nothing ever did.
I sometimes worried that if I didn't act on my feelings, I may lose him. But even armed with that knowledge, I always considered myself a fool for holding back. Though there have been several opportunities, I would always turn away.
But now… I must do something.
"Why're you still here?"
I'll bluff, as Wright does. "I have proof."
And that marked the moment that I did something unforgiveable. Perhaps it was because I was in desperation. Perhaps it was because my body had outdone my mind once again that day.
That day, his face captivated me, as it always does. His usually so innocent eyes, that obnoxious toothy grin… His unusual sense of justice and general care for the welfare of others… His desire for the absolute truth in court…
And after time passed between us, I noticed the more intimate sides of my beloved lawyer. His loyalty, stubborn honesty, and his desire to protect… The way he would greet me with such unique kindness… How his body would move or the way his lips parted when he spoke to me…
And even more dangerous and intoxicating, how my body would react to him…
As Wright's lethal eyes caught mine, I reached out to gently take hold of that soft, spikey-haired skull and bring it towards mine. There was a second when I could feel him take a sharp breath, but it was but a second before I pressed my lips to his.
My hammering heart squeezed like it had been wrapped up in Wright's own hands. The unfamiliar warmth of another - and not just any other, but Phoenix Wright - buried itself deep within my core. It was a dream; it had to have been. It wouldn't have been the first time I've dreamt of Wright in this shameful manner.
It was to my displeasure that he struggled and pulled me away with a look of absolute horror on his face. Disgusted, he spat, "Y-You think that counts as proof? What the hell do you-"
My entire body ached. I had him, I had him! I can't let him go…!
But I had lost my chance. And with that one last, nauseating moment, Phoenix Wright – neglecting to clean or collect his things – escaped the room.
I believe I truly lost my mind then, because all I remember feeling was emptiness and a loneliness like no other. Completely taken aback at my own actions and ashamed, I leaned my back against the window and slid to the floor. I couldn't close my eyes – not even blink. The tears were so close…
Wright… I'm useless. I can't even prove to you… how much I love you.
Love is a myth. To me, it has proven to be unattainable and altogether unfruitful. It seems that now, all I can do is dream. Because that's all I'm capable of.
Unless, of course, Phoenix Wright gives me another chance.
Oh my goodness, what a soap opera. To my beloved readers, I apologize that it was so corny! And I'm sorry if Phoenix & Edgeworth seemed a little out-of-character... I tried! I really did! X_x
Actually, I just passed up that part of Justice For All when Edgeworth came back... And Phoenix was all pissy at him... I think that's what inspired me to write something angsty.
