trace (vestiges)

He does not say much as Phoenix works his magic in the kitchen, the air rife with tantalizing scents that are more delicious through their nostalgia, their meaning, than anything.

However, he does insist that the deed is done for once and for all, for if he must listen to his colleague complain about it one more time he is sure to lose his mind.

At first, he insists on trying to be as stealthy as possible, a task which seems nearly impossible considering just how fixated Phoenix seems to be on Miles; he tries his best, angling his phone unobtrusively whilst the other man works, but every single attempt is foiled by Phoenix's gaze darting back to look at the prosecutor. At first, this irritates Miles. "Don't you have to watch the pan?" he asks, raising a pointed brow at the eggs on the stove.

Phoenix merely chuckles, nodding ruefully before turning back, but it is never long enough before he has glanced over his shoulder again.

After the fourth look, Miles is two heartbeats away from complaining when he realizes just what may be happening. The moment that understanding sinks in, Miles wordlessly walks to the cupboard and grabs mugs for himself and for Phoenix, each movement painstakingly slow to avoid aggravating his soreness; he makes sure to do it precisely, though. By the time the coffee is ready, Phoenix is still occupied by the bread toasting and the eggs in the pan, so Miles pours Phoenix a cup and hands it to the other man, smiling until the air of nervousness finally dissipates from Phoenix's shoulders.

He thinks if he turns around too late, I'll be gone.

The back of Miles' eyes sting at the mere thought. Just what will it take to assuage the other man's fears? He will do whatever is needed; he just wished he knew what.

Thankfully, this small gesture seems to be enough to quell the unconscious anxiety in Phoenix's heart for the time being, leaving the other man to focus on his task at last. As Phoenix cooks, Miles is finally able to take his phone and snap a photograph of Phoenix, the warm kitchen light painting his tanned skin in a rosy glow, bare arms poised over the stove as he stirs scrambled eggs with a soft smile upon his face, his pyjama bottoms leaving little to the imagination by way of his shape and figure and warmth.

Frederik tries to call him when he receives the photograph, resorting to sending message after message when Miles declines every single call. Miles does not respond; the messages quickly grow more and more teasing, leaving him red-faced and flustered by the time Phoenix finally turns around again, holding two plates of breakfast and gesturing with his unshaved chin to go to the dining table. Unfortunately, dark eyes notice the phone, the embarrassment, and the attempt to hide it. Immediately, his brows furrow, his gait quickening as he places the plates upon the table, then turns around, crossing his arms and murmuring, "What is it?"

Miles stares deadpan for a moment before Phoenix's sudden agitation clicks. He knows what to do to assuage those concerns, but even so, there is a moment of hesitation- Frederik has no shame when it comes to mocking Miles, after all-

Phoenix's eyes are quickly growing more concerned. So, Miles glances at the screen, feels himself flush deeper, and holds up the phone so Phoenix can see.

'You finally got him back after a year of acting like a lovelorn puppy. I'm proud of you, Miles.

'But tell me… was he any good?'

To Phoenix's baffled gaze, Miles scrolls up on the conversation, showing the picture taken of him cooking along with the caption: 'This is Phoenix.'

The smile on Phoenix's face is absolutely brilliant as Miles confesses bitterly, "It's… my mentor. From my trip."

Another message buzzes onscreen. 'You turned me down for a whole year to save it for this guy. He better be good, and I require details'

That smile, the light in Phoenix's eyes, the ensuing laughter which rumbles from thin lips like a fountain make of warmth itself, almost makes up for the incessant teasing Phoenix subjects him to for the rest of the day as they lounge about Miles' home. If Miles wasn't so sore, he would have made a rebuttal, but for that day, he decides to let Phoenix have his fun.

If he brings this up in front of Maya though, I will not forgive him.

That is a promise.