Hi everyone, I just wanted to thank those who are reading and encourage you to review and post your thoughts! It really helps keep me going.
Thank you, lone guest reviewer, for your kind words: it's a challenge to write both POVs, but a necessary one to this type of narrative I think.
Also, thank you so much, prospectkiss, for your advice and feedback while I craft this story!
I apologize that this chapter is about three times as long as the others, and I'm cross-eyed from editing, so if I missed anything, forgive me. -L
Chapter 5: Vulnerabilities
Despite exhaustion, Edgeworth took the numerous flights of stairs down to the garage with little concentrated effort, focused on the call he received from Gumshoe. Apparently, the detective had accompanied Wright in the evening to some Russian hole-in-the-wall, known for mild criminal elements but frequented by regulars in the area as well. What were you thinking, Wright? As he drove past the establishment, Edgeworth elected to park his beloved sportscar in the well-lit parking lot of a nearby grocery store. He strode confidently, compensating for his lack of familiarity, to the entrance of Borscht Bowl Club where a couple of unkempt men laughed and shared a smoke. Borscht? Really, Wright? Such a flimsy foundation for a restaurant…I would wager you have never tasted borscht in your life…
The prosecutor entered gingerly, eyeing the distasteful carpeting and décor, bypassing the empty hostess stand near the doorway. He spotted Wright sitting at a baby grand piano near the frost-covered, roaring fireplace…a grinning idiot with pink-tinged cheeks and mussed spiky hair, his tie loosened and a few shirt buttons undone. His attorney's badge was conspicuously missing. Well, he manages not to be entirely repellent despite his disheveled appearance, I suppose that's a positive note. Gumshoe stood to the side awkwardly, chuckling and embarrassed. Edgeworth's mouth settled into a hard line: the target's position had been acquired and now he needed to be extracted. He narrowly avoided cocktail waitresses and drunken regulars to approach him on his makeshift stage.
As he approached, Phoenix exclaimed, "Miles! I thought you'd never come, old friend."
Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his eyes shut, "You seem to be doing well, all things considered. Wright, we're leaving. You're clearly inebriated, time to go home, and let the detective rest."
His rival-friend laughed, eyes sparkling, "Oh, you old stick-in-the-mud, I just got here and only had one glass of wine! Ask Gumshoe!"
Edgeworth brushed off the detective's "It's true, sir", silently directing Gumshoe to leave his post with a nod of the head. The detective complied, patting Wright on the shoulder and taking his leave in order to avoid further salary cuts. Edgeworth's eyes closed and tapping on his upper arm, "Wright, I am not accustomed to babysitting children, you will maturely—"
Before the prosecutor could register what was happening, Phoenix had pulled Edgeworth down by the arm onto the piano bench next to him, blissfully unaware of the prosecutor's sustained glare…Wright, this blazer costs more than your monthly rent! He abandoned the thought as he noticed the unfamiliar warmth of his rival-friend's body radiating so close. Oblivious to Edgeworth's reactions, the former attorney started to play songs from childhood rather poorly, at times unintentionally discordant due to poor coordination. His silver-haired companion audibly scoffed, to which Wright responded, "Really? Let's see you do better, Miles Edgeworth!" Wright grinned, mischief and something else less easily discerned dancing in his dark blue eyes. Edgeworth shot him a lethal look before removing his blazer, which rode the line between maroon and dark magenta, to drape it gently over an adjacent chair, safe from most environmental risks. The prosecutor proceeded to unbutton his cuffs and roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing his pale, surprisingly strong yet lithe forearms culminating into graceful wrists and long fingers. The prosecutor's face flushed a gentle vermillion when he felt Wright's wide eyes burning as they roved over his figure, clad in shirt and waistcoat.
"What are you staring at, Wright?"
"Uh, n-nothing, Edgeworth…I just haven't seen you without your coat on in…well, since we were kids."
His blush waning, Edgeworth smirked, "Move over, Wright. If I am to accept your challenge, I need access to the entire keyboard." Wide-eyed Wright obeyed silently as Edgeworth closed his eyes, images of himself as a child playing the grand piano in the parlor with Franziska on violin, a bow her second favorite prop only to a whip. He searched for a favorite solo piece he still remembered. Tchaikovsky, Nocturne in C# minor, Opus 19, Number 4, fitting to both occasion and setting…Von Karma hated its romanticism, but for Wright… Edgeworth's respiration became rhythmic and graceful, as his long, pale fingers languidly reached for the intended keys, his ornamentation delicate. He felt his shoulders relax and joints loosen as he succumbed to the melody, a moving vessel to serve the piece, no longer the engrossed, analytical prosecutor he strove to be nearly every waking moment. At a ritardando or fermata, he would pause and meet Wright's gaze, noting his soft-lidded, dark blue burning eyes, flushed cheeks and mouth half-agape.
Edgeworth felt a half-smile grace his lips as he looked away, attempting to deny how much he enjoyed seeing that familiar face in shock, not akin to that violent surprise in court, but an astonishment that comes from the pleasure of experiencing something spontaneously exquisite. As he continued, he was certain he heard the former attorney gasp a few times, which only spurred him to gratuitously slow the tempo of his playing. Edgeworth recognized and felt mildly perturbed by committing a major faux pas: misinterpreting style markings in the musical score. However, his desire to make Wright experience that torment, that intended gratifying ache of delayed musical resolution, won out. I not only did better, I gave you much more than you were prepared for, Wright. As the piece came to a close, Edgeworth's eyes slowly fluttered open, his posture straightened, and he reflexively cleared his throat as haphazard applause filled the establishment.
A few silent moments passed between friends, the no-longer-colleagues.
Why does my chest feel like it's going to explode? He was just playing the piano...Phoenix, get yourself together.
"Miles…that was…" Phoenix almost whispered and looked away, his hand reaching to scratch his neck, his blush retained and deepened.
The prosecutor's cheeks flushed before he stated, "Wright, I believe I won our wager, which means we should get going."
Wright, still in awe, grabbed his briefcase and nodded slowly. He followed Edgeworth, as the latter gracefully tossed his jacket over his shoulder, taking long strides to the side exit. When they entered the sportscar, Wright stated, "So if you want to drop me off at the train station—"
Edgeworth huffed, "Wright, at this hour? You can't be serious, I'll take you to your apartment."
He's going to think I'm such a loser. "No, Edgeworth, uh…" Phoenix scratched his neck reflexively frowning, "I moved out of my apartment."
"What?"
"Look, I could only afford to keep the office and it was Mia's place, not much of a choice…look I can get back to Kurain Village—"
Edgeworth held up his hand, interjecting, "Wright, I will hear none of this, not today. I have a guest bedroom and after the past two weeks, I lack the endurance to ruminate on possibilities for other accommodations."
Oh no, no no no…not after daydreams and night dreams, after I imagined he...
"Oh…uh…" Phoenix barely felt his cheeks burn, he was almost numb to it by now. "Edgeworth, don't inconvenience yourself on my account, it's my fault, I don't want to impose on—"
"Wright! What part of 'I will hear none of this' do you not understand?"
Phoenix sighed, "…Thanks, Edgeworth."
The pair drove in silence for minutes before Phoenix decided to break it.
"So, I guess you heard?"
Edgeworth bit his lip, "Yes, but I tried to avoid updates. I wanted to see you first."
You wanted to see me?! Really? Oh, come on, Phoenix, he didn't mean it like that… the former attorney shrugged, "Yeah, I guess I'm kind of high profile, and there was a target on my back in the Prosecutor's Office for some time. Do you think it was a fair ruling?"
"Your hearing committee was comprised of a vindictive pack of defense attorneys relieved to not compete with you for clients any longer. A more partial, biased jury could not be handpicked." Edgeworth replied bitterly.
Phoenix laughed raspily, "Yeah, but if you look at the evidence, I mean… anyway, can you believe Attorney Gavin voted in my favor? I guess he felt bad that his brother went rough on me in court."
Edgeworth's jaw tensed. "I don't understand his motivations either." A pause. "Did you tell them Trucy gave you the forgery?"
"C'mon, Miles, I wasn't going to let them interrogate her. She told me all she knew and had no Psych-locks…you know the Magatama thing…"
"Yes, I remember," Edgeworth responded curtly, turning at the signal. "Are you sure about adopting her, Wright?"
Phoenix's eyes became misty as he peered out the window. "I don't trust anyone else to do it, I guess. I just…I don't want her to suffer, to turn into something so different from who she is now. Her spirit got me through so much the last couple of weeks, I couldn't bear to see anyone break it. I want her to believe in people, in justice, in her talents…I want to protect her."
Edgeworth's eyes softened slightly as he stared at the red traffic light. Silence.
The prosecutor muttered, "You mean you don't want her to end up like me."
"Miles… that's not…" Phoenix's voice softened, as he reached out to touch Edgeworth's shoulder. "I would be thrilled if Trucy grew up to have a tenth of your intelligence, heart, loyalty, character, so much else…"
Edgeworth's body tensed with his clenched jaw, face flushing crimson, as he responded acerbically, "Wright…what are you waxing poetic about?"
Phoenix withdrew his hand with an exasperated sigh, "You! You, Miles! Are you always going to deflect when I share something meaningful, especially on a day like this? I just wanted to…forget it, Edgeworth."
The prosecutor maintained his clenched jaw as the former attorney directed his fiery gaze forward, and they drove in silence until reaching the parking garage of Edgeworth's condominium. The duo's energy sapped for flights of stairs, Edgeworth pressed the button for the elevator for his friend and instructed him to go to the 14th floor, while the prosecutor headed for stairwell. When they arrived at the apartment, Wright, momentarily forgetting their minor argument in the car, felt his jaw drop in wonder as he entered what seemed to be a luxury home, with glass windows lining the walls and overlooking the city.
"I don't spend enough time here to enjoy it, but it is pleasant…" Edgeworth deflected, dropping his keys in a decorative bowl likely from Zheng Fa and switching on a few dim floor lamps. The prosecutor hung his blazer in the coat closet before loosening and removing his jabot cravat.
"Maybe I should try to become a prosecutor…wow, Miles, this is the life…" Phoenix devoured the view, his eyes widening as Edgeworth's narrowed, lips settling into a smirk.
"I'm not sure, Wright…bluffing, taking risks, possessing an honest face…you may be better suited for a career in gambling."
Wright grinned, "I thought the same thing at Borscht Bowl Club! I mean, I beat Enigmar in poker, I'm sure I could beat a lot of people…"
Edgeworth scoffed as his mouth straightened, "I was joking, Wright."
He strode over to the immaculate grey marble kitchen, his hand paused on the cellar door, "Wright, are you planning to sleep soon?"
Phoenix's eyes glued on the skyline, "Uh, well if you have to be up early for work, I can –"
"I think I may take tomorrow off."
Wait…what?! Edgeworth is just going to take a day off?! Are you—
"Do you oppose, Wright?"
Phoenix slowly turned as he faced Edgeworth, who was busy deftly cutting the foil prior to uncorking a bottle of red wine.
The former attorney laughed drily, "What's the occasion?"
Edgeworth silently uncorked the bottle in one graceful motion before responding, his eyes on the ultra-thin wine glasses as he filled them halfway with the burgundy fluid.
"Am I not deserving of a mental health day, Wright?" The prosecutor smirked and added, "I already wrapped up three cases before I met you at that disreputable establishment. I brought home some of my paperwork if it makes you feel any better."
Phoenix, almost dizzy from such a heady evening filled with surprises from his rival-friend, slowly walked to the counter where Edgeworth was pouring, casually leaning against it. Grey, inscrutable eyes drifted upward to meet guileless, sea-blue ones.
"Miles…I didn't realize it was so hard for you today." Phoenix uttered, his eyes pained.
After several moments, Edgeworth broke their mutual gaze, simultaneously pushing one of the glasses toward Phoenix and taking the other for himself before moving to the vintage charcoal grey sofa in his living room. The former attorney followed closely behind, sitting closer to his rival-friend than he would dare on a typical day.
"I-I'm sorry, I should have never brought you into this, I didn't even think about how it would be or feel working in the Prosecutor's Office—"
"Phoenix."
The former attorney seized up, the sound of his first name in that baritone timbre, something he had never heard before…certainly since they were children, though Miles' voice had been much gentler then.
Lips curling into a faint smile as he took a long sip of his wine, Edgeworth continued, "It seems our fates are inextricable, Phoenix. I am grateful for it because at this moment, I could have been sitting in a cell. Besides that, even if you had never confided in me, would I have avoided the impact? The possibility of never facing you in court again…did you think it would mean nothing to me?"
Phoenix took his first sip, hand shaking on the stem of the glass, equally aware that he did not want to stain the sofa nor give away his nerves. The wine's essence opened with bitter cherry, opening to a gentle spice warming his tongue, finally giving way to a subtle sweetness.
Edgeworth tangentially asked, "Do you like it?"
Phoenix nodded heavily. "It's…memorable." Come on, former Ace Attorney, you can bluff better than that. "It's definitely not 'one note', is it?" Phoenix touched his neck, grinning awkwardly.
Edgeworth issued a low chuckle, "Impressive, Wright, at least for you. 'One note'…that it is not. I had it made several years ago, around the time I started practicing, using grapes from the vineyard behind the Von Karma Estate. It's akin to a Pinot Noir, though it was fermented from a combination of grape types. We only made 20 cases… very, very small production. I finally opened one of the bottles when I went to visit Franziska last and it tasted…well, how would you describe it, Phoenix?"
"Um…you don't think—"
"I'm honestly curious."
As he remembered from public television, Phoenix swirled the glass and tucked his nose in for the scent before taking a small sip, his eyes closing as the wine caressed his tongue, unaware of Edgeworth's amused expression.
"Um, I still feel like it has this bitter cherry taste, and then gets kind of spicy and warm, and then is a bit sweet at the end." Phoenix looked up at Miles, shaking his head, "See, I know you're just going to make fun of me—"
Grey eyes glittered with that half-smile affixed as Edgeworth interjected, "Your words may not have approximated my own, Wright, but much like in court, I agree with your sentiments. A bitter brightness, a warm spice, then a mild saccharine quality… I considered naming the wine Phoenix." Edgeworth released another low chuckle. The former attorney's eyes widened for the millionth time that evening, delayed processing of all of his rival-friend's utterances, mannerisms, suggestions, inflections… That's a new laughter record was all Phoenix could muster as his silver-haired companion sipped again, their gaze maintained.
Phoenix tilted his head, confused, "M-me? I'm bitter?"
Edgeworth sighed, swirling the wine, "You misunderstand. Our trials always appeared to share elements in a way I had not experienced before: the bitterness of a wrongfully indicted defendant… the case processed and burned by logic…the truth rising from its ashes. When I tasted this wine for the first time, those days came to mind. Do you not see it?"
"Well, when you put it that way…but this is wine, you're comparing me and our memories to wine…" Phoenix bit his lip, intent on Edgeworth.
The prosecutor face shifted into neutral, his gaze maintained, but a throat clear gave away his unease, "It was intended to be a compliment, Wright."
"And it was! I- I'm flattered…I just…I never know what you mean, Miles. I'm afraid I'm always…you know, misinterpreting the evidence?" Phoenix's hand might as well have been glued to the back of his neck, his teeth gritted in a smile-grimace.
Edgeworth eyes narrowed, imbibing more wine such that it began to stain the edges of his lips a dark red, and Phoenix wondered what they would taste like now before relinquishing the thought.
"'Misinterpreting the evidence' you say… you have to present more so I can speak to it, Wright." Edgeworth smirked, reclining slightly as he swirled his wine by the stem of the glass.
Phoenix gulped, clenching his fists and digging his nails into his palms to disguise his trembling.
"Um…" Phoenix cleared his throat, his eyes pained as he realized how many of Edgeworth's seemingly throwaway lines and gestures were archived in the former attorney's mind in a file cabinet that might as well have been labeled He Loves Me/He Loves Me Not.
"Yes?" The prosecutor raised an eyebrow.
"Well first, do you think you could…answer honestly?" Phoenix grimaced, knowing he was about to remove his armor and wanted his friend to do so as well. It was a lot easier when we were kids… Miles was so kind and I could be kind back, and nobody made a big deal about it… except for Larry, but we didn't care about that.
The prosecutor scoffed, "Naturally! Lying when drinking wine is unfathomable, Wright…I have met few who do it convincingly."
Phoenix's face hardened slightly, "I'm serious, Miles. This isn't easy to talk about, especially today."
"Well, you certainly don't have—"
"No, I WANT to…I'm just saying it's... a lot for me right now. Try not to be sarcastic, push things away, answer impulsively?…I'll take you seriously, too... I thought that was a given though"
Edgeworth's expression softened as he silently nodded.
Phoenix leaned in closer, taking a sip of wine before muttering, "Okay…you said after the Steel Samurai case that you were 'saddled with unnecessary feelings.'"
The prosecutor's face contorted as he responded, "How do you even remem—"
"You said you wouldn't answer impulsively." Phoenix frowned, taking a gulp of the wine to Edgeworth's chagrin.
"Understood." He remained silent, his long fingers brushing his silver bangs away from his face as he appeared to recall making the statement.
Edgeworth sighed, "I suppose you could interpret that a number of ways. I felt conflicted about my values as a prosecutor, what I had learned with Von Karma, and your take on navigating a case, your vehement belief in your clients… I couldn't disagree with you because I remembered feeling that way as well when I was much younger."
Phoenix nodded, "Our class trial."
Edgeworth half-smiled, continuing, "Yes, among other things. And I felt conflicted about you suddenly intruding in my life…" The prosecutor sat silent as he looked into the distance at the skyline.
"Go on." Phoenix urged, almost impatient.
"Well, you were an inconvenience…no, more than that, a contradiction to Von Karma's philosophy …and yet? I hadn't felt so alive in a very long time. To be unsure if I would win or lose? To meet an equal in court, who ended up saving Will Powers and, thus, Steel Samurai? And you were so engaged, fighting for your clients…I had not met such an attorney, since…well, my father…", Edgeworth's eyes fell. "I wished I could sit in the gallery and watch your defense instead. I was fascinated, even if you were bluffing or unsure…for you would find the truth. Someone actually cared about the objective truth, not just a believable story suggested by evidence…the truth."
The prosecutor, almost breathless, finished his glass and began to shift off of the sofa, but Phoenix stopped him by his shoulder.
"No running away, not now."
Edgeworth replied flatly, "Relax, Wright, I'm just going to refresh my glass. Can I do the same with yours?" Phoenix nodded, embarrassed, handing his wine glass over and waiting patiently.
After returning the now almost-full glass to Phoenix, Edgeworth inquired, "Was I clear? Any other lingering pieces of evidence you want analyzed?"
Phoenix took a sip, absentmindedly tapping his foot as he searched, "Why did you come back so quickly when I had that accident near Hazakura Temple?"
Edgeworth, incredulous, responded, "Seriously, Wright? I find out that my dear friend who saved my life and career is gravely injured in a mess of a case, and I'm supposed to hesitate? Especially when said friend loathed me for disappearing a year or so before?"
Phoenix bristled almost pleasurably from his rival-friend's directness, his eyes nearly tearing. Damn this wine, I'm usually a little bit better about keeping myself together, when I'm not in trial-mode that is… "No…I-I just –"
Grey eyes burning like the pair were in court again, the prosecutor interjected, "You want to know if the evidence indicates that I care for you."
Phoenix bit back a gasp, his teeth sinking into his inner cheek, unable to speak. No, let's just stop, I shouldn't have even…
Another sip, and Edgeworth's eyes fell to the side, his cheeks burning. "I do care for you, Phoenix." Edgeworth cleared his throat, his fingers pressing into his bicep, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if unsure how to proceed. His mouth slowly parted as he continued, "I couldn't sleep or think when you beat me in court, when I realized how far you had come just to face me. When I was in the detention center, I thought about how you were actually going to fight for me the way you had for others. But you fought even harder, when I wasn't even sure I deserved it." Edgeworth paused to take a sip, briefly meeting Phoenix's eyes before darting away, and the former attorney swore he saw his friend's hands shaking mildly.
"When I realized for the first time you would have to represent someone who was guilty… then I found out you were being blackmailed into representing them... Wright, you're wanting testimony regarding whether I care, but if I gave you all of the testimony I could think of, we would never leave this sofa."
Edgeworth shook his head, "If I had to think back, there was only one person alive who truly cared about what I became, who made me feel that there was more to my life than killing parts of myself just to win. So yes, Phoenix…" His grey eyes, as unshielded as they had ever been, sought out those deep blue pools again. "I don't think caring is even a choice at this point."
Phoenix's mouth fell half-agape, his breath caught in his chest, afraid to even move in case Miles thought to run away again. This isn't happening, what is in the wine? I can't –
Edgeworth's eyes narrowed, "Nothing to say, Wright?"
Phoenix's eyes pining, his voice raspy, "N-no, I… I've always cared for you, Miles, more than I can even…"
Edgeworth half-smiled, "Yes, I know."
Phoenix's face contorted, "Then why did you check if I had anything to say?"
Edgeworth chuckled lowly, "Perhaps I wanted to hear it."
Why would he want to…
Phoenix looked away before initiating, "Can I ask—?"
The prosecutor scoffed, "How rude. Am I not due for a turn, Wright?"
Phoenix sighed, "Y-yes, yes of course…what did you—?"
Edgeworth's mouth settled into a hard line with cloudy, distant grey eyes yet again, as he quietly muttered, "Were you in love with Dahlia- or should I say, Iris Hawthorne?"
You really go for the jugular, Edgeworth, whether we're in court or not.
Phoenix's mind flooded with thoughts: Yeah, she's beautiful…seemingly innocent…made me feel special for a while…made me feel wanted…but her duplicity…I can't…
"I thought I was, I guess. But looking back now, I think I liked her because there were things that reminded me…" Phoenix's eyes darted to his friend. Should I…is it even true?
"Yes, Wright?" Edgeworth probed, his stained lips resting at the edge of the glass, waiting.
"She would give these shy smiles, she was smart, she would analyze me in a second but I could never fully figure her out…I guess that part makes sense now. She was so refined, so sophisticated, the way she would speak sometimes, it was like…poetry. It was hard to believe she saw anything in me, or would even take the time to make me feel special. But she did…Iris did. And she seemed familiar enough, or close enough to… Now that I've had time to process…"
Phoenix's heart raced, his skin flushed, almost afraid he had a fever.
He bit his lip, concluding, "I think I gave into her because I thought I'd never have a chance with you."
Fuck! Fuck, why did I…this is all so fast…he's going to…
"Ph-phoenix…" Edgeworth was nearly shaking, his hand gripping the cup of the wine glass, white-knuckled. The clouds in his grey eyes had cleared, once again unshielded. The prosecutor slowly lowered his wine glass to a coaster on the coffee table, shaking his head subtly as if trying to make sense of the night's events.
I feel like such a jerk, he welcomed me into his home, and I had to just vomit up all my feelings and—
Phoenix felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up. Edgeworth had moved slightly closer, his eyes slightly wider, an innocent look the former attorney hadn't seen since they were kids. Phoenix steeled himself to maintain this gaze, afraid he may never see his friend like this again, blue eyes drifting down to his Miles' wine-stained lips, and returning his gaze once more.
Anxious to break the silence, Phoenix asked weakly, "But you knew, didn't you? I mean I sent all those letters and you never…"
Miles' eyebrows knit together as he looked away, "No, I was afraid. And when I tried to respond, Von Karma threatened to disown me…had I been smarter, Phoenix, I would have written anyway." Miles' fingers began to stroke the disheveled spikes in Phoenix's hair, causing the latter's thoughts to melt into something incomprehensible.
"So, what happened to—"
Miles' smile came easy, his thin stained lips curving smoothly, as he quietly uttered, "You'll think I'm a sentimental fool but…I kept every single letter."
Phoenix's face flushed and he felt dizzy, hearing those intoxicating words from that dream now mirrored in waking life. His forehead leaned against Miles' shoulder, feeling the warmth spread throughout his body, wishing he could move his limbs but they stayed lifeless as the prosecutor's fingers gently stroked his disheveled hair.
"Evidence is everything, Miles." Phoenix barely croaked.
Edgeworth's sigh broke into another low laugh, "You really don't trust me, do you, Wright?"
Deep blue eyes looked up, dumbfounded yet eager.
The prosecutor smirked, "Fair enough, Wright, wait here." His fingers lightly grazed the side of Phoenix's face before swiftly turning toward the fireplace mantle. Phoenix nearly fell over from inebriation: the source of intoxication, Miles or his wine, was less certain. Miles fished his keys out of the bowl, his fingers feeling for a small, nondescript key, unlocking a minimalist keepsake box displayed on the mantle.
So daring to keep your secrets hiding in plain sight.
Miles returned triumphant to the sofa, holding out a hodge podge pile of letters in envelopes, tied together by a black ribbon, the edges of the paper softened and slightly yellowed over the years. Phoenix's hand rested over his mouth, to inhibit a gasp or similarly sentimental reaction, before his trembling fingers reached out to touch this familiar yet distant collection of memories. That was from when I started at Ivy University…and that one was when I first saw your clipping in the newspaper…and that's when I sent you my first draft of an art project, a sketch of us as kids from an old class photograph… Phoenix held the packet to his chest, his eyes shut tightly, feeling ridiculous at his attachment and afraid to even look at Edgeworth. Those fingertips finally returned to his face…Miles might as well drench me in gasoline and drop a lit match at this point. Phoenix's dark eyes opened hesitantly, his eyes meeting those clear, open grey pools suspended over a slight smile before he noticed Miles held a particularly crumpled and torn letter.
Phoenix laughed weakly, "Were you mad at me that day? Did you finally suspect me of stealing your lunch money?"
Edgeworth rolled his eyes, "Quite the contrary. Von Karma had found this, one of the first ones I received, and crumpled it in front of Franziska and I in the parlor before throwing it in the recycling. I waited until everyone was asleep and dug it out. I learned to get to the mailbox early, so I could save them from his wrath."
Phoenix, although touched, hunched his shoulders, shaking his head, "I must have embarrassed you so much…"
Miles pressed his fingers against Phoenix's mouth, feeling his rival exhale against his fingertips, "I felt such shame and confusion that I couldn't forget you… I still thought about you and yet didn't want you to see what happened to me, and the only relief was getting this evidence," Edgeworth's stained-lipped smile deepened, "The proof that I wasn't the only one and that someone remembered who I actually was. At this rate, I don't know when I'll stop thanking you, Phoenix." His fingers gently trailed down the former attorney's chin, then neck, barely touching before pulling away.
In the dream, it was so easy to touch him, to give in like I had needed it for years… like the badge had made me worthy finally… but he's a great prosecutor, a pianist, and...winemaker?…and now, I'm just…
Phoenix eyes teared, voice shaking as he confessed, "But look at me now…now I'm the one who doesn't want you to see me and I don't know who I am anymore."
Miles' eyes darkened, his face falling into familiar concern, "Wright, you made a mistake, but you didn't compromise your morals, you didn't sell yourself out…"
Phoenix leaned his head against his rival-friend's shoulder, his breathing becoming shallow and labored, "It's just…it's so much right now, Miles, and how can I be enough, and raise a child…"
Edgeworth attempted to lean away to look at Phoenix, but he was embraced tightly instead, the former attorney deeply comforted and yet triggered by feeling the closeness and warmth he'd craved from his childhood friend.
"Don't. Please." Phoenix pleaded, noticing tears bleeding into his Miles' shirt, but neither pulled away.
"I'm here, Phoenix," Edgeworth whispered, "but I think we could both use some water and rest. Perhaps talk when we're both clearheaded."
After several minutes, they finally pulled away, Phoenix nodding and avoiding Miles' gaze. Miles led him to the elegant, yet sparse guest room, the bed clad in dark blue sheets and duvet. Phoenix shot a weak smile at Edgeworth, who cleared his throat, unaware. "Were you thinking about me when you bought this bedding, Miles?" Phoenix teased, but his tear-stained face and slightly red eyes gave him away.
Miles smirked tiredly, "Let's retire the 'were you thinking about me when…' game until tomorrow, Wright." Edgeworth pulled his friend in for a final embrace, and Phoenix shivered and clutched in response.
Edgeworth set a large glass of water on the nightstand alongside a small bottle of Maximum Strength Painkiller X. The prosecutor pulled out a dark V-neck T-shirt and blue pajama bottoms from the guest closet, resting them gently at the foot of the bed. "I wasn't sure if you had packed anything to change into…but make yourself at home." The silver-haired man walked slowly toward the door, before half turning with a smirk, "Within reason, Wright." He disappeared down the dark hallway, and it took considerable resolve for Phoenix to not pursue him at this hour. We both need some time to digest what happened, it's only fair given the kind of day we had and that we nearly killed a bottle of wine… us, a couple of lightweights. A sentimental smile crept up on the former attorney's face as he changed into his night clothes and dove into the warm blue sea of a guest bed, thoughts rearranging into a slideshow of all the grey-eyed expressions he'd experienced over the course of that evening.
Unable to sleep, the digital clock on his dresser blinking 4:00 AM on the blue LED display, Edgeworth stretched his arms overhead, his nerves shot from the unexpected emotional intimacy that arose between Wright and himself.
I'm being ridiculous. At this point, I should probably refer to him as Phoenix. It's not like we're working together anymore.
Edgeworth entered his expansive, white marble master bathroom, squinting as he switched on the light, feeling for the shower door as he peeled off his night clothes and dropped them into the laundry hamper. A few twists of the knob released the warm water he craved, sighing as his hair quickly drenched into dark charcoal and his pale skin flushed slightly in response to the temperature.
I think I might have scared him. Maybe I was too honest…maybe he's confused about his feelings and really just wanted to know if I cared for him as a friend. I never suspected he would be interested in men at all…he always seemed to blush or get embarrassed around attractive women, but perhaps that was for a different reason.
The prosecutor spread a favorite soap over his chest, arms, and stomach, relishing the clean scent of lavender mixed with earl grey, before moving onto his thighs, calves, and feet. If only Phoenix was in here, I would – Edgeworth bit his lip reflexively. I'm not sure he's ready or that he knows what he wants. I shouldn't think of him in such a light just yet. He rinsed off a couple more times before finally retreating from the shower, entering the large adjacent closet and wearing his trademark maroon/dark magenta suit with black waistcoat, white dress shirt, and a jabot cravat characteristic of barristers. Though his style of dress tended to confuse people in the US, it was the minimum expected in his legal work abroad.
As Edgeworth entered his bedroom, he noted that blinking green light… a new email? He checked…Franziska…Interpol…Shi-long Lang could use help…black market and trafficking ring in Berlin…already booked a flight for 9:00 AM on March 3rd…
Wait…I have to be at the airport in three hours for an international flight and I haven't packed?!
The perturbed prosecutor called Franziska as it was approximately 1:30 PM in Germany. "I know you booked the flight…but…it's not the best time…wait, you already heard about Wright?... No, it's not just that…so what if I do need time to mourn?... It can't wait?..." Edgeworth paused for a long time, "Fine, I'll be there."
While he kept a bag ready of toiletries for such impromptu trips, he scrambled to select enough suits, dress shirts, accoutrements before vacuum sealing them to avoid wrinkles. He packed 2 medium sized suitcases, unsure of the length of this trip. He quietly but swiftly walked to the kitchen to turn on the hot water kettle for some tea. Phoenix. He took a sheet of grey stationery paper and a fountain pen, quickly jotting down his frazzled thoughts:
~Phoenix, I know the timing is less than ideal, but I have an emergency Franziska has called me on in Europe, dealing with Interpol, etc. …you know I can't elaborate. I haven't forgotten our conversation and I want us to have time to talk when you're ready. I still believe in your case and the last thing I wanted to do was leave you in your darkest hour. Please believe me. I'm leaving a spare set of keys here…you and Trucy can stay and use it for your work, within reason. I'll call the first chance I get to check in. Take care, Miles ~
Edgeworth's eyebrows were knit together as he frowned… Do I really trust Phoenix Wright and his 8-year-old ward with my sacred space? Wait, no time to think—
He left the note anchored under Phoenix's phone which was charging on the kitchen counter. He would be sure to see it then. At least say goodbye directly, Edgeworth. He quietly strode to the guest bedroom door, quietly turning the knob. He noticed Wright sleeping soundly, his hair even more disheveled with spikes askew, and Edgeworth felt his lips curve slightly upward. He leaned down, pressing his lips gently on his rival-friend's forehead.
"Unhhh…Miles?" Phoenix uttered drowsily, his face gently contorted.
"Phoenix, I'm...I'm leaving for business, but…" Edgeworth hesitated, "I'll be back soon, alright?"
Phoenix shrugged and repositioned himself in his sheets, clearly lost in some dream, "Yeah, okay, Miles, I'll see y—". The former attorney gently succumbed to slumber once again, quietly snoring. Edgeworth nodded curtly and grabbing his suitcases, he called a cab and headed downstairs.
Please, Phoenix, tell me I'm not making a mistake.