faithful-defender:

guilty-verdict:

Miles Edgeworth had never been good at saying good-bye. Not to his father who had left him at such an early age, not to his best friends when he had left the country without any notice. Not when Von Karma had sent him to his first alone trip to England, nor when he had come back to Germany and left behind the professor who in his kindness had almost reached through to his true self.
No, Miles Edgeworth definitely did not enjoy farewells and, if they were absolutely necessary, he tried to keep them simple.

Today would not be different. Without losing another world Miles Edgeworth would step back into his car and close the burgundy door behind him. He would turn his keys that would bring the automobile back to life, the radio would turn on and Puccini’s Tosca would be greeting him, or perhaps Vivaldi’s Four Seasons if he had forgotten to exchange the discs. Miles Edgeworth would position his hands on the wheel and prepare himself to drive down the street, to the highway that would bring him back home.
Miles Edgeworth would not look back.

This was what a reasonable Miles Edgeworth would do.
When Miles Edgeworth watched the lawyer’s silhouette resolving itself in the shadows of the nocturnal park, he knew that he was not going to be that. The unreasonable Miles Edgeworth waited, staring into the depths of midnight darkness and listening to the quiet sounds of a not-yet sleeping city. The dying purr of a parking car’s engine in the distance, the giggling of a home-going group of teenagers further down the road, some other distinct sounds pervading the stillness of the night, but no footsteps which the prosecutor would have died for to hear. The Wintery cold slowly began to creep under his car heater-warmed clothes and to gnaw at his skin, making it crawl, but the black-suited man did not care.

Seconds that lasted hours weighted heavily on the shivering man, nevertheless he did not budge. Like a mantra he began to silently mutter words not to be forgotten instead, his eyes lost in the park’s obscurity.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

Over and over again four words were repeated, the prosecutor’s susurrus, barely audible, left trembling lips. He would persevere as long as he could; as long as there was hope, he would not stop reiterating

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

With each repeat Miles felt his heart sink lower in his chest, the words leaving him like air bubbles a drowning vessel, lost still not sunken completely yet; fate sealed. The man’s throat tightened but despite his lack of breath, he kept on whispering

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

The prosecutor breathed in sharply; once again he felt a stinging in his nose and humidity welling in his eyes. His voice broke but he had to keep repeating his magic spell that perhaps, only perhaps, would lure Phoenix out of the park again, back into his longing arms.
Thus all he could do for now, for him, for them, was to pray that his words would not be forgotten.

I love…-

Miles flinched and stared at it in horror when his wristwatch announced midnight with an electronic beep.
This could not be…
When had it gotten so late? Miles Edgeworth got back into his car and started the engine while his free hand moved up to wipe away the humidity from his eyes. Miles Edgeworth did not like Winter very much. The cold air always made his eyes teary and stung in his nose.
With a deep sigh Miles Edgeworth turned on the heater while Vivaldi’s Four Seasons greeted him and for a moment he froze, a feeling as if he had forgotten something important coming over him.
He must have left the Tosca disk at his office then.
Miles Edgeworth shrugged the feeling off and backed out of the parking space. He would exchange the disks tomorrow; he had spent too much time on his investigation today. 
He drove down the street. Soon he would reach the highway that would lead him back home.

Miles Edgeworth did not notice the bicyclist he passed near the park’s entrance.
Miles Edgeworth did not behold the restaurant down the road he drove past.
Miles Edgeworth did not remember his mantra.

No, Miles Edgeworth did not look back. 

[Phoenix would only realize that he had made his way into the park, shortly after midnight on February fifteenth. It had been an early Spring as far as the flowers had gone, and as such, seasonal allergies were in full force, stuffing up his nose and causing his eyes to water. And then there was that fuzzy-headed feeling that came along with them— just what had he come to the park for in the first place?

As he trudged back toward his bike— why had he chained it up and not brought it with him again?— he couldn’t help but feel that he was forgetting something. Something  vital; important, his heart speeding up momentarily in his chest as unborn thoughts teased at the very edges of his mind, none daring to come to the forefront. The closer to the opposite entrance of the park her drew, the more urgent the feeling grew, until a mind desperate for relief came to rest on a file that he’d left at the office as he’d hurried home, earlier. But why, then, had he decided to go through the park on foot?

Chalking it up to a senior moment, the defense attorney freed his bike from the park fence, mounting up and starting slowly toward home. After all, it wouldn’t do to go all the way to the office and back at this hour, when he’d been planning to head in early anyway. He wouldn’t even notice the red sports car that passed him heading in the other direction, save for the brief thought that maybe, just maybe it would be nice to get his license, one of these days. But then, riding his bike had always gotten him where he needed to go, and otherwise, the bus wasn’t so bad… Nah. He’d be fine without it.

He’d be just fine.

As the low purr of the engine faded off into the distance, he didn’t give it a second thought.]

hamstr:

I missed drawing pudding.

He’s in his car but you won’t be able to tell that because I suck.

EDIT: FUCK. Forgot I was working on a flipped canvas. There fixed.

faithful-defender:

[As Miles wiped the tears from his eyes, Phoenix took the opportunity to wipe his own away, the sleeve of his sweater absorbing most of the moisture. Briefly, he wondered whether the garment would smell like Miles, later, and whether he would notice such a thing. Most likely not, he imagined, leaning forward to collect the take-out bag, before moving to follow Miles, body already missing the one that had just been against it.

It was with heavy feet and a heavy heart that he stepped outside, then, the Wintery air suddenly seeming all the more chilling as he straightened to face the prosecutor. The amber light that rained down from the street light above, shadowed his features; softened them a bit, casting a warm glow over his hair and making him appear, if it was possible, even more beautiful than he had when they’d met.

His free hand rose, and he brushed the backs of his knuckles against one of Miles’ cheeks, fingers unfolding to cup the side of his face just as he was pulled closer, the prosecutor’s hands warm and comforting over the back of his neck.]

I will.
I’ll come back…

[And he would. Be it in but a few minutes when their memories, by some strange magic, remained intact, or later on after they’d settled their differences and done things the hard way. It was a promise that he knew he’d keep, already so very devoted to his old friend, even without a spell that might deepen that devotion into a love that would surely be realized on its own, with time. That thought was his only comfort as he pulled away, realizing that Miles’ hands had already left him, fingertips trailing softly back into silvery hair, before tracing along his jawline and finally falling back to Phoenix’s side.]

I’ll be seeing you, Miles.

[One final, soft look, and he turned, heart aching harshly in his chest as he took one step, two steps away, feet falling into a heavy rhythm to carry him into the park. Blinking back more tears and fighting the urge to look over his shoulder, he tossed the bag that he held into a trash can as he passed it, not daring to stop until he was more than certain that Edgeworth and his car were completely out of sight. A glance at his watch would reveal that midnight was painfully near, the second hand counting down what he had left of the minute until all would be forgotten. It seemed all too fast, the way that it moved forward, finally passing the eleven, until…

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

Brown eyes closed, hands curling into fists and…]

Miles Edgeworth had never been good at saying good-bye. Not to his father who had left him at such an early age, not to his best friends when he had left the country without any notice. Not when Von Karma had sent him to his first alone trip to England, nor when he had come back to Germany and left behind the professor who in his kindness had almost reached through to his true self.
No, Miles Edgeworth definitely did not enjoy farewells and, if they were absolutely necessary, he tried to keep them simple.

Today would not be different. Without losing another world Miles Edgeworth would step back into his car and close the burgundy door behind him. He would turn his keys that would bring the automobile back to life, the radio would turn on and Puccini’s Tosca would be greeting him, or perhaps Vivaldi’s Four Seasons if he had forgotten to exchange the discs. Miles Edgeworth would position his hands on the wheel and prepare himself to drive down the street, to the highway that would bring him back home.
Miles Edgeworth would not look back.

This was what a reasonable Miles Edgeworth would do.
When Miles Edgeworth watched the lawyer’s silhouette resolving itself in the shadows of the nocturnal park, he knew that he was not going to be that. The unreasonable Miles Edgeworth waited, staring into the depths of midnight darkness and listening to the quiet sounds of a not-yet sleeping city. The dying purr of a parking car’s engine in the distance, the giggling of a home-going group of teenagers further down the road, some other distinct sounds pervading the stillness of the night, but no footsteps which the prosecutor would have died for to hear. The Wintery cold slowly began to creep under his car heater-warmed clothes and to gnaw at his skin, making it crawl, but the black-suited man did not care.

Seconds that lasted hours weighted heavily on the shivering man, nevertheless he did not budge. Like a mantra he began to silently mutter words not to be forgotten instead, his eyes lost in the park’s obscurity.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

Over and over again four words were repeated, the prosecutor’s susurrus, barely audible, left trembling lips. He would persevere as long as he could; as long as there was hope, he would not stop reiterating

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

With each repeat Miles felt his heart sink lower in his chest, the words leaving him like air bubbles a drowning vessel, lost still not sunken completely yet; fate sealed. The man’s throat tightened but despite his lack of breath, he kept on whispering

I love Phoenix Wright.

I love…

The prosecutor breathed in sharply; once again he felt a stinging in his nose and humidity welling in his eyes. His voice broke but he had to keep repeating his magic spell that perhaps, only perhaps, would lure Phoenix out of the park again, back into his longing arms.
Thus all he could do for now, for him, for them, was to pray that his words would not be forgotten.

I love…-

Miles flinched and stared at it in horror when his wristwatch announced midnight with an electronic beep.
This could not be…
When had it gotten so late? Miles Edgeworth got back into his car and started the engine while his free hand moved up to wipe away the humidity from his eyes. Miles Edgeworth did not like Winter very much. The cold air always made his eyes teary and stung in his nose.
With a deep sigh Miles Edgeworth turned on the heater while Vivaldi’s Four Seasons greeted him and for a moment he froze, a feeling as if he had forgotten something important coming over him.
He must have left the Tosca disk at his office then.
Miles Edgeworth shrugged the feeling off and backed out of the parking space. He would exchange the disks tomorrow; he had spent too much time on his investigation today. 
He drove down the street. Soon he would reach the highway that would lead him back home.

Miles Edgeworth did not notice the bicyclist he passed near the park’s entrance.
Miles Edgeworth did not behold the restaurant down the road he drove past.
Miles Edgeworth did not remember his mantra.

No, Miles Edgeworth did not look back. 

hamstr:

I need to stop drawing sad stuff and stuff that I am not good at (kissing and Phoenix’s hair in impossible angles).

*clears throat* Good day, guilty-verdict and faithful-defender.

faithful-defender:

Mmn…

[Phoenix hummed quietly into the kiss. A response, of sorts as he tried to draw the action out, to pour out all of his love and longing and sorrow over the fact that they would have to part, into it. It was hard with such a chaste little kiss, but it was as much as he would allow himself, already having broken two of the rules that they’d set for themselves that evening. And at the very least, it would hide the fact that he’d started to cry. At least it would have, had the prosecutor not just run his fingertips through one of the wet streaks over his cheek.

The kiss was broken, and Phoenix could only look at the other man for a moment, an apology on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t get it out, however, before the prosecutor was leaning in, soft lips caressing and pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, eyelids and nose. It was indescribably sweet, and soon, Phoenix would be doing the same, lips brushing over smooth flesh as he tried to comfort Edgeworth, the knowledge that he was crying as well coming as nothing short of an immense shock.]

I know. I know we’ll be fine…

[He didn’t mention the fact that Miles, himself was crying, not wishing to end the evening on an embarrassing note, as far as either of them was concerned. If he was crying, he could live with it, but he knew that for the prosecutor, tears were something far different; something far more foreign. A final kiss to his cheek, and Phoenix pulled back, blinking against a fresh wave of tears as he glanced down at his watch, realizing that their time was up. At least that of it which they had to spend together.

A sad smile crept its way onto his lips as he returned his gaze to Miles’ face, leaning in for one, last, brief little kiss.]

You should get in the driver’s seat, so you won’t be wondering why you’re in the back of your car.
It’s time for me to go, Miles. 

[The news that their time was over made the prosecutor feel sick in anxiety and his heart pound vigorously in his throat, but, knowing that there was no option but to follow their initial plan, Miles inclined his head resignedly. When had the other man become the more reasonable one of the two of them?

Edgeworth filled his lungs with a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face, unsure whether they were the lawyer’s or his own; he closed his eyes for a moment and tried to pull himself together, at least for their last moments, then ran his fingers through the other’s ashen hair for the last time.]

Yes…
Yes, indeed.
… 

[Miles stepped out of the car and waited for Phoenix to follow - at the very least he wanted to see the lawyer’s face one last time in the street lights before they had to part.
This time no look of assurance was cast around to make sure they were unseen when the prosecutor’s hands moved to the back of Phoenix’ neck and he pulled him near for the last time, their foreheads jointing.]

Phoenix…
…Please come back.

[Yes, Miles held frantically onto the last bit of hope that the gods would perhaps have mercy on them and that the two lawyers might remember the events of this evening after all and meet here again few minutes after midnight, but as he spoke this time Edgeworth meant something different.
Even if they were not spared, even if they forgot that day’s every kiss, touch and feeling, perhaps someday they would be able to return to the blissful togetherness they had shared on that Valentine’s Day.

The prosecutor’s lips gently touched Phoenix’ forehead, the perhaps last contact they would ever have with the lawyer’s body, before Edgeworth released the man and took a step back. Phoenix had to go now. This was the last chance for him to let go of the person who, for one day, had given Miles his happiness back.]

faithful-defender:

[Another warm shiver when Miles, once more, returned his words. Though it was only the second time he’d heard them, he didn’t think that he’d ever tire of it, Edgeworth’s voice sounding so very…different as he spoke them. Softer somehow; warmer. Just as his expression was. In fact, Phoenix couldn’t recall ever having seen anything even remotely similar to that expression on the prosecutor’s face. Not ever. Not even as a child had he given the defense attorney a look that said he was so very happy. So very free.

Needless to say, what came out of the prosecutor’s mouth next was more than a little bit shocking, his hand tightening pleadingly around Phoenix’s. Of everything that he may have expected as their time together neared its end, he hadn’t expected this begging, this pleading from the other man that he stay, and it broke his heart. Particularly when he began to think about it, realizing how much harder something like this must be for Miles. For someone who had never opened himself up to another, before; who had most likely never been exposed to such feelings, or rather, allowed himself such feelings. Walking away having realized these feelings was going to be nothing short of a monumental task, he knew, but what would their parting be like for Miles? The very thought of it brought that lump back to his throat, and he was forced to blink against a light pricking at the corners of his eyes.

With that, he nodded.]

I’ll stay until the very last possible second, Miles.
And… 

[He trailed off, gaze leaving Miles’ only when he leaned forward to rest their foreheads lightly against one another. Time was ticking away, and it would be up soon, but until then…]

I’ll stay until then, and when I have to leave, I’ll go into the park. If midnight passes and I remember, I’ll come back…

[It was a lovely thought for a vivid imagination such as his, but deep down, he knew that neither of them would remember. Just as quickly as they had realized their love, they would forget it, as seemed to be the nature of things such as these. Yet still, he couldn’t seem to see the message as having been cruel in its nature, infinitely grateful for what little time they’d had together.

One last, sweet little kiss. At least that was what he told himself as he tilted his lips to press them once more to Miles’, planning to keep it short until there was actual contact. And then he couldn’t seem to tear himself away, hand tightening just slightly around the prosecutor’s as he let the kiss linger on, that light pricking at the corners of his eyes finally turning to wet trails down his cheeks. He hadn’t been planning to cry; in fact, he’d been fighting it tooth and nail, but just then for all of the closeness and warmth that they were sharing, he couldn’t hold his quiet tears back any longer.

Thinking about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried, but now seemed an appropriate time as ever. Now that he was certain that their minutes were down into the single digits.]

[Phoenix’ promise was sweet and luring and even though Miles knew these were merely words of consolation that the lawyer would not be able to keep, he allowed himself to believe them, just for now. Just… until everything would be over.]

… If I remember… I will wait for you to come back… 

[Again the soft touch of the other’s lips on his made his heart increase in speed and the prosecutor leant closer into the kiss, his free hand’s fingers trailing back to the other’s cheek lovingly. A deep, unprecedented longing filled Edgeworth’s heart painfully as he wished for nothing more than this moment to last. Perhaps everything would turn out in their favor, maybe their feeling, their mutual love was strong enough to overcome this spell that, after having brought them so close, was now about to part them.

Edgeworth had never been an overly devoted reader of love stories and, had he thought about the tales he knew, none with a happy end would have come to his mind. But Miles was a hopeless romanticist and, maintaining the very tiniest grain of hope for a joint future after midnight, he could not help but ween that - even though Romeo and Juliet’s story had ended in a tragedy, even though Tristan and Isolde had been separated and only brought together in death, even though Orpheus and Eurydice had walked through the underworld but failed to attain their togetherness in life - the story of the beloved lawyer and him could end happily this night.

The prosecutor’s fingers brushed across a wet trail and, surprised, he unsealed their lips, aghast eyes spotting the tears in the other’s eyes. Seeing Phoenix crying laid a heavy weight onto Miles’ chest and his digits untangled from the other’s to cup the lawyer’s face. A pained look full of concern lay on the district attorney’s face.]

Phoenix…

[Once the name had been spoken out a strange feeling overwhelmed the prosecutor as well, something he had not felt ever since he had begun to accept the nightmares that haunted him every night. What he felt was somewhat nostalgic, but the heartache that accompanied this helpless feeling was new.]

Phoenix, don’t-…

[The prosecutor swallowed, a long-lost sensation filling his disused tear glands with something that had been forgotten in the course of the years. Phoenix’ face between his palms, Miles leant in and placed helpless, desperate kisses onto the man’s front, cheeks, eyelids, nose.]

Don’t cry… we will-…

[His voice broke off and Miles swallowed hard as he tried in vain to dissolve the tight lump that had formed in his throat.]

…we will be alright.

[Edgeworth pressed his eyes shut and leant his temple against Phoenix’, his body reacting in a way that the prosecutor had believed he was no more capable of.
Distinct drops escaped the grey eyes and trickled down Miles’ cheeks to join Phoenix’.
Under the given circumstanced Miles simply couldn’t handle the sight of the other man in distress. Helplessly he tried to calm his down, his attempts not much of a success given his own condition.]

S-Shh. Shh, Phoenix… P-Please…

[Desperate lips moved back to the lawyer’s, pleading kisses covering the soft skin, pleading eyes searching the other’s. Seeing Phoenix like this was breaking his heart and as the prosecutor tried to speak his voice was no more than a whisper, stuck in his throat.]

Phoenix… we…
…We will be… alright… so please… don’t-….
…don’t cry… 

nowyoukno:

Roses Meanings

faithful-defender:

Mmhm….

[He hummed quietly, relaxing as Miles’ arms slid around him, warm breath fanning out over his hair. This was nice. A perfect, sweet end to their evening together, even if there was still something nagging at him; a sense that leaving things like this would leave unfinished business between them. Even if they’d both agreed that it should remain unfinished. Even if it was only for a little while, and they’d forget all about it later, the very thought of it then was distressing.]

M-Miles, I…

[Unconsciously, he spoke the prosecutor’s given name, shifting just enough so that he could tilt his head back to look up at him, zig-zag brows furrowed gently together in something akin to worry. Seeing the obvious worry on Miles’ face as well wasn’t helping, and almost unconsciously, he found himself leaning in, closer, closer…

Warm hands came to rest on either side of his face then, and he realized that Miles had taken it upon himself to close the distance between them, mouth resting what must have been millimeters away from Phoenix’s own. He can almost feel those lips on his, and it’s nothing short of torture. In fact, he’s just about to give in and remove Miles’ hand from his face, hands wrapping around either of the prosecutor’s wrists, when he did it himself, murmuring what he supposed was some sort of apology, before pressing their mouths together in an unexpectedly bold move.

The kiss, though chaste, was electric, sending a warm shiver down the defense attorney’s spine and setting his heart to racing as he pressed forward a bit, trying for just a bit more closeness. Upon finding it, he was satisfied, one hand leaving Miles’ wrist to press lightly at the back of his neck, fingertips sliding up into the short hairs there. The other hand remained where it was, however, and when they were forced to part for air, he slid it upward, lacing their fingers together and leaning in until his lips were nearly brushing the prosecutor’s ear. Hot, shaky breath rushed out over it as he debated speaking, words practically burning the tip of his tongue in their insistence that he speak them.]

Miles…I…

I love you…

[If it wasn’t the unbearable longing for the other’s closeness, it certainly was the sound of his given name escaping the lawyer’s lips that led the prosecutor to remove the sundering fingers from their contactless mouths and close the last distance between them.
Carefully his lips glided over the other’s until they found their rightful place, the other’s warmth gradually filtering down to the grey-haired man while waves of another, more emotional kind of warmth ran though him.

One of his hands was kept in place by Phoenix’ holding on to his wrist gently, which did not stop the prosecutor from letting his free hand trail back to the other’s ear and lovingly run his fingers through the ashen spikes. He felt the other’s hand at the back of his own head, fingers gently caressing his neck, and, as a feeling of happiness and safety flooded him, the worried wrinkles on Edgeworth’s forehead disappeared and he relaxed.

The loving kiss took Miles’ breath away and after a while they parted, however remaining close. The other’s warm, sweet breath rushed against his, before the lawyer leant in deeper, his lips almost reaching the prosecutor’s ear - his breath reaching it very well. Edgeworth shivered, puffing his lungs out in hitches, while his fingers buried themselves deeper in the spiky hair - until his whole body froze, that is, at the sound of the lawyer’s words.

The prosecutor’s eyes opened wide and he pulled back lightly, just enough for his eyes to meet Phoenix’ and while his vision was fixed on the dark brown orbs facing him, Miles felt his heart beating at a rate he couldn’t recall it having ever beaten before. Happiness, so strong that it hurt, rushed through the district attorney’s body, his heart pounding almost painfully in his chest led him to believe that it was trying to break through ribcage that held it back; and while his entire body and mind was overcome with sensations, the prosecutor’s hand moved back to the lawyer’s cheek as he gave him a truly loving look, different from any expression that had ever made its way onto the prosecutor’s face.]

Wright, I-… [He corrected himself.]
…Phoenix…
… I love you, too.