Miles Edgeworth shouldn't have come.

Wright could have been the only resident of California with the desire to throw a Christmas in July party, complete with a plastic tree dressed in inexpensive tinsel. Now that they were in a relationship, it was the protocol for Wright to drag him out to any and every social event he could, Christmas in July party included. Whether or not Wright wanted him here, however, was a different matter, and after the first few hours of the party, Edgeworth was not so sure that he did.

There had been a commotion at the doorway when Miss Fey and her younger cousin had arrived, both in matching Santa Claus hats. Edgeworth had watched helplessly as Miss Fey handed Wright a gift, and had stood on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, which Edgeworth had desperately hoped was nothing more than platonic. Friends did that to each other all the time, didn't they? It wasn't like he hadn't seen her do it before, but for some inexplicable reason, he seemed to be noticing a lot of things tonight, most of which he didn't want to acknowledge.

Larry, as well, had seemed unnaturally close to Wright tonight. He could pop open a bottle of beer, pour it into two glasses, and slap Wright jokingly on the back as he offered him the drink; that, after all, was what Larry was like. Wright seemed to appreciate him for that.

It was no secret to Edgeworth that there had always been glaringly obvious differences between himself and Wright… Perhaps they were, at heart, simply incompatible? Was it that Wright got along better with more whimsical people? His band of friends suggested it; Wright, Miss Fey, and Larry made quite the troupe, and perhaps that was what was best for Wright. Perhaps Edgeworth wouldn't ever fit in with Wright's interests, no matter how hard either of them tried.

Edgeworth sighed over his cup of tea. Sometimes, he wondered why he even bothered trying.

He cast his eyes on Wright one last time, and surely enough, the man appeared happy, possibly happier than Edgeworth was used to. Laughing over in-jokes, intermittently taking a drink of his punch, chatting to the other guests — his friends — as they stood around the round table, a circle of people Edgeworth would never belong in. People who could make Wright happy.

If he had avoided making the decision earlier, he was certain of it now: he had to leave.

Empty teacup and saucer in hand, Edgeworth moved to the kitchen, not wanting to add to the already large mess for Wright to clean up later. He would clean the cup, collect his things, and leave without so much as a goodbye. What was the use, when nobody would even notice his absence?

What he hadn't counted on, however, was finding Miss Fey's younger cousin — Pearl, was it? — in the kitchen, busying herself with the dishes.

"Mr. Eh-ji-werth!" she exclaimed, turning to face him, a few suds on her chin.

He held his finger to his lips with a "shh!", almost glaring at her. "Please, I would prefer if you kept quiet," he hissed.

She nodded. Hopefully she understood. "Okay," she whispered back. "Do you have any plates for me?"

Her devotion to clearing up was certainly kind, if not a little unexpected; she was only young, and Edgeworth doubted that anyone had asked her to do it. "I have a cup and saucer, but I'm more than happy to wash it myself, thank you."

She shook her head. "It's okay! Let me do it for you!"

Resistance was futile, it seemed, when at the hands of a persistent child. Edgeworth handed his dishes over with little more than a mumbled "thank you."

Well. Now that was sorted, it was time for him to leave, collecting his coat and seeing himself out, in peace. Edgeworth had no business here. He didn't intend on staying a moment longer, nor would he be missed, either; it was clear that Wright had no use for him.

If Edgeworth thought he had been quiet about it, he was dead wrong; he jumped as the door creaked behind him, turning around and coming face-to-face with a very confused Wright.

"Miles? Where are you going?"

Damn Wright, and damn his oblivious nature, only serving to hinder Edgeworth's cause, as always. "I'm going home," Edgeworth answered, with sturdy resolve. "I didn't mean to distract you from your party."

"You thought you could leave without me noticing?" Wright looked a little lost then, his eyes resembling those of an injured puppy. Edgeworth frowned; this wasn't helping. "Miles, I invited you here tonight, and it's barely been two hours. You want to leave already?"

Edgeworth stared out the window. "I— You... have no need for me here," Edgeworth finally answered, clutching his arm and looking to the side the way he did when he was nervous. "You have your friends, and I— I'm of no use to you."

Confused as ever, Wright stared for a moment in silence, before gripping Edgeworth's arms and forcing him to look back.

"Miles, what are you— where is all this coming from?" Phoenix's fingers tightened their hold, no doubt they would leave creases on the fabric of Edgeworth's suit. "What makes you think that?"

"Wright, you can be so dense sometimes," Edgeworth uttered. "I'm not interested in discussing it."

Phoenix let go, letting his arms hang awkwardly at his sides. "Okay," he sighed, looking down the dark corridor leading to the stairwell. "Would you at least like me to walk you downstairs?"

Edgeworth flinched; that proposal had certainly come from nowhere. Why was Wright so keen on this? It wasn't as though Edgeworth was unable to find his car by himself.

Wright didn't bother waiting for an answer, instead pacing ahead to the door at the end of the hallway, wordlessly waiting for Edgeworth to follow.

They made their way outside in silence.

"So, what's bothering you tonight?" asked Wright, stepping onto the pavement with his hands in his pockets.

Edgeworth felt his back stiffen. "It's unimportant."

Wright frowned, not quite believing that. "No, Miles, I mean—" he sighed. "I mean, what you said before."

"Your friends are all you need, Wright; not me." Edgeworth glanced aside, and turned around to walk towards his car.

"No, Miles, wait!" Wright gripped his hand.

"Phoenix—"

Wright stared at him for one, long moment, whispering, "Wait," his eyes searching for something within Edgeworth, and apparently finding it; pulling Edgeworth closer until their lips pressed together. On any other day, Edgeworth might have returned the kiss, but it was clear Wright was doing it out of pity, nothing more.

"Please don't go. Please," whispered Phoenix, pulling away to talk. "You probably don't believe me, but Miles, I do need you. I don't know why you'd think otherwise, but- but trust me, you make me a better person. You always have."

Edgeworth let out a shaky sigh, suddenly willing to stare intently at anything that wasn't Wright.

"They're my friends, yeah, but you... Miles, you've- you've always been more than that, to me," he admitted, blushing discernibly even under the dim street light. "So, will you come back inside?"

Perhaps Edgeworth had made the wrong decision in wanting to leave without so much as a farewell. He could only imagine how that might have affected Phoenix, being the easily worried man he was. It was easy to picture him scrutinising every detail of the night, and wondering what he might have done to make Edgeworth feel like he had to leave.

Edgeworth nodded.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Phoenix's face light up almost instantly. Edgeworth thought he might be kissed a second time that night, but Phoenix captured him in his arms, holding him close as he nuzzled his face in Edgeworth's neck. Edgeworth had difficulty with honest, heart-felt words — as much as he wanted to tell Phoenix how he felt, he couldn't — but he could reciprocate this, slowly but surely wrapping his arms around Phoenix, content to stay here with him.

"We should head back," Edgeworth heard him whisper.

"Al- Alright."

"I'll tell them you went out to get some air," offered Phoenix, holding a hand out.

Edgeworth blinked, his eyes flickering between Phoenix and his open palm, before taking it in his own, and finally letting the man lead him forward.