Good Enough
(I'm back again. Sorry, no lemon in this one. More of a lime I guess. I'm not good at that hardcore stuff at all, so I'm not even going to attempt it at the risk of losing the poetic style I try to acheive. Anyway, enjoy trying to figure out the German!)
Chapter 3
"Are you sure about this?"
"Guess there's only one way to find out."
The dim light from the lamp that perched upon a glass bedside table filled the room with a soft and gentle glow, giving only those objects in its closest vicinity enough light to appear detailed. The table was draped in a deep red cloth that was the same color as the comforter on the large bed it accompanied. There was a mahogany work desk in the corner of the room farthest from the light so that it was mostly a giant shadow, although it had its own light source sitting upon it, which was inactive at the moment. A polished dresser sat in the small space of wall between two doors on the left side of the room, a walk-in closet on one side of it and a master bathroom on the other side. All doors in the room were closed, and only two people occupied it.
Miles sat on the edge of his bed with Franziska across his lap. One arm was wrapped around her back and the other reached across her to place his hand on her hip. Her head lay on his shoulder and was turned at an angle so that, by turning his head to the side, he could continue to kiss her, and she could return them. Miles' jacket and cravat lay out of sight, leaving him in his long-sleeve, black shirt and red suit pants. Franziska, however, wore just a sleeveless, white gown that extended to her knees; it was made of silk, and Miles loved the feel of it, subconsciously working the material with his fingers as they sat there together.
Still, though this moment was passionate, there was uncertainty.
"I just don't want to hurt you again," he whispered.
"It doesn't matter," she replied with a little smile. "I asked for it." She gripped his shoulder tightly so that her nails dug in, giving him more violent chills. Soon after, he had removed his shirt, putting his scar into plain sight. Franziska ran her fingers along it, having only just realized how vivid it was. "Does it hurt?" she asked, wondering if her touch had brought back the pain.
"No," he whispered, easing her down to the mattress and beginning to unbutton her white, silken gown, still kissing her. "The pain is gone entirely."
This was the point at which he felt her flinch slightly and saw something flash across her expression. It was only brief, but he had caught it. "Are you sure?" he asked again in her ear.
She hesitated for a moment. She hadn't really expected to be able to hide it from him completely. In truth, she was frightened, and even more so now that he was starting to take control. However, she kept telling herself that there was a difference. Miles cared for her; he wasn't going to hurt her. "Yes," she answered in the same tone of voice. There was no other way to overcome her fear of him.
Miles watched her, thinking it over. No, she didn't look sure at all, but she was giving direct consent. 'Gently then,' he thought, hoping he understood properly. This was his chance to earn her trust.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The loud clang of the metal bars reverberated off the bare walls, shattering the dead silence. The lack of light made it nearly impossible to see a thing, but there was no complaint.
"Komm! Schnell!" a rough voice hissed from out of the darkness. There was the sound of heavy boot falls and the jingling of keys as the bars were swung shut again.
"Warum nimmst du zu viel Zeit?" This second voice was deep and harsh, the man's impatience evident.
"Ich erkläre später. Wir müssen jetzt gehen." The shadowed figures hurried along down the dark hallway, trying to avoid notice.
"Hast Du die Vorbereitungen für meinen Flug gemacht?"
"Ja, Herr. Es ist getan worden."
"Gut."
A dark laugh sounded from the throat of the taller man whom had been the one to walk out of his cell. A low, menacing sound that sent a chill down the other man's spine, even though its malice was not directed at him.
"Bereitest Du dizhvor, Miles Edgeworth, lebenzig zu brennen."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Miles sat bolt upright, his bangs plastered to the sides of his face with cold sweat. He was panting as his eyes darted to each corner of the dark room, trying to discern where exactly he was. There was no light to aid his frantic searching, but a noise and movement from beside him snapped him to attention.
A smaller hand found his and clasped it before a voice came to him from the darkness. "What is the matter?"
Yes, he knew that voice; he loved that voice. Finally coming to his senses, Miles slid back down onto his pillows, lying on his side to face her. "Nothing," he breathed, squeezing her hand and throwing his other arm around her shoulders. "Just a dream."
She gazed upward to where she knew his face to be, though she couldn't see it. Then, she sighed with content and laid her head against his bare chest. "You frightened me," she said, now noticing how tense she had actually been.
Miles chuckled, holding her closer to him. "It's nothing to be worried about," he reassured her. "It was only a dream."
Suddenly, he realized who he was speaking to, and it wasn't the woman in his arms. He was speaking mostly to himself, trying to convince himself of those words as he had done countless times in the past. However, that hadn't been his usual nightmare; he wasn't even sure why it scared him so much. It was that voice; it had to be that voice. He knew it, yet didn't want to recognize it. 'He's dead,' he told himself as he attempted to drift to sleep again. 'It's over now. There's no way it could be real.'
He shuddered, causing Franziska to grip his hand a little tighter. What had it meant? No, it didn't matter! It was only a dream. Still, that last sentence kept echoing in his mind, and he couldn't shake it.
Just then, the alarm clock on the table beside the bed began to beep obnoxiously, the green letters blinking 6:00. He felt Franziska lurch beneath his arm, taken completely by surprise. Miles groaned irritably and rolled over, pushing the button to turn it off. "Guess I panicked just in time," he said, stretching a little in preparation to force himself out of bed.
He finally managed to get up and headed into his adjoining bathroom, coming back out twenty minutes later after shaving and showering. He had begun to get dressed when he noticed that Franziska hadn't moved at all. He pulled on his black dress shirt and then came to her side. She opened her eyes and looked up at him upon sensing his presence above her. "You all right?" he asked, wondering why she hadn't gotten up yet.
She remained silent for a moment, and then took in a deep breath. "I'm…okay," she replied. "But… I don't think I'm going in today."
A frown crossed his visage as he remembered the last time she had stayed home from work aside from her recovery period. A bit nervous, he sat down at the end of the bed and turned to look at her again. "What's wrong?" he asked, fearing the worst.
"Nothing," she answered simply. "I'm just… really tired. I didn't sleep well. You weren't the only one being disturbed last night." She gave a slight grin, but noticed that he did not return it.
"Was it…" He paused. He needed to be sure. "Was it because of-"
She shook her head. "No," she said, finally sitting up and reaching to grab his hand. "Last night was… amazing." She smiled again, this time the gesture coming much more easily. He smiled as well, relief apparent in his face; he leaned forward and they engaged in a passionate kiss, now entwined in each other's arms.
"I should go," Miles reluctantly whispered after a rather long amount of time they couldn't measure. "Are you sure you're not coming in?"
"I'm sure." She sat back and swung her legs off the bed, standing up along with him. "I just don't think I can do it today. Yesterday was… exhausting."
He nodded, understanding how she felt. His first day back had not been easy either, and if the next day had not been a Saturday, he probably would have ended up skipping work as well. "Do you want me to take you home?" he offered.
She shook her head again. "I'll be okay. You go ahead." She kissed him once more.
He nodded. "See you this afternoon then," he said, before turning toward his bedroom door. "Get some rest." With that, he exited, leaving her to gather her things.