Miles Edgeworth unfastened his cravat and shirt. He lowered himself onto his ludicrously expensive couch. There were about 15 minutes he got to rest each day, so he invested generously. Being the workaholic he was, he pried open a large law book and read at a leisurely pace.
A few minutes later, Franziska Von Karma walked, well, marched, into his office.
"Weak!, perfect people do not rest, fool!" she looked as stern as ever. Miles smirked.
"Franziska, I believe that the brain does indeed require resting, overuse results in faults"
Franziska recoiled at the clever insult. She felt her hand tighten on her whip. She lashed at his chest,
"Fool! I am perfect! I am a Von Karma!" with every word she lashed at him with her whip, Miles blocked the most with the book.
"May I ask why you're here?" Miles said, pointing his finger with that manner of his.
"I am here to inform you that I will be leaving to Germany for a large proportion of this year." Her face was stony cold.
Miles tried to bite back his shock. It was early February, she would be gone for a decent amount of time.
"And for what reason?" He asked curiously, managing to maintain his composure.
"I am to see to the Manor. Father passed away recently." Her face showed a small amount of grief.
Miles knew that meant her grief was ten times of what it seemed. He felt genuinely sorry for her; she had done nothing wrong in her life.
"I am deeply sorry for your loss. It seems you will be alone for the most part of your stay."
Damn it, what was he implying?
"Prosecutor Edgeworth, do not think for a second that you will be accompanying me in Germany." Her voice and face made it hard to tell if she was lying or telling the truth.
There were always awkward tensions between them, Miles pondered on this matter thoroughly and could not come to a conclusion. It was possibly the only thing that could not be solved by logic.
"And do not for one moment think that Is what I meant, you are overcomplicating things." Miles rubbed his brow, pretending to show he was telling the truth.
They knew each other so well, it was a constant battle of emotions and speech, forcing the other to break composure.
"Hmph!, she twirled on her heels and began to make her way for the door. Miles felt something rise inside of him.
"Wait a minute, Franziska." She stopped mid-stride. An irrotated eyebrow twitched on her face.
"What is it, you fool?" She replied boldly.
"Franziska, put this on Masters grave." He shuddered calling that wretched man "master" but it was the only way of getting to Franziska.
He held up a leather whip which had been tailored for him. He remembered being trained to use the whip with deadly efficiency.
"I believe this belongs with him, I have no use of it anymore." Franziska took the whip, admiring the woven leather. She caressed it subconsciously.
They were completely still and silent for a few moments.
"Sister, the worst is behind us. You have nothing to fear." Miles rarely called Franziska sister, and when he did it was to add emphasis to what he was about to say.
He moved to her and embraced her, his large frame shrouding her petite frame. Franziska
recoiled slightly, and fought away.
"F-fool! just what do you think you're doing!" her tone was broken. Miles smiled to himself, holding her to him with great ease,
Her body slowly succumbed to the emotions she was inducing.
"No, n-no! Let me go! I will press charges!" her strength was fading. She felt herself give in. She slowly slid her hands around his shoulders.
She knew she enjoyed this. Her body had given in to natural instinct. Her cheeks had flushed an uncommon crimson.
Miles enjoyed every part of this domination. He had a soft spot for the real Franziska. They hugged for what seemed like minutes.
They inhaled each others scent, both sighing from satisfaction.
"So are you going to let go?" Miles cheekily asked.
She pulled away from him, her blush obvious, she was looking down at the floor, nervous.
"... Fool..." She muttered, in a hushed tone.
She turned out of his office, walking down the hallway. Miles lingered there, letting the moment sink in. He could not wipe the self satisfied smirk from his face.
Franziska Von Karma stood in the elevator in the prosecutor wing, her mind bustling with emotions. She felt an unnatural warmness which she usually felt after savagely whipping some fool.
She clutched her stomach, she felt sick from this surge of hormones, leaning against a steel rail.
"why... must it be like this? I have been such a fool..." she took small breaths between each sentance. she was under Miles' euphoria, also known as "love".
Franziska had never been loved in her entire life, and became extremely sensitive when it came to things like this.
She made her way out of the elevator, and towards her personal taxi, which would escort her to her apartment. She was to stay the night,
and fly early in the morning, for minimal jet lag and optimum time schedule. She sighed as her body was met by the soft, reassuring leather
of the back seat. She focused on the gentle hum of the mercedes engine to clear her mind. She found herself drifting off, it was rather late,
her eyes slowly closed. She fell into a calm sleep.