It was late, but Phoenix wasn't asleep. Though his mind and body begged for it, the stress-fueled insomnia of the past few days persisted, ensuring that what little sleep he did manage was fitful, at best, and not the least bit helpful. It was easier, he'd decided, just to stay awake.
He was poring over news sites, despite his conscience's best efforts to remind him that he'd spent very little time preparing for his client's trial in the morning. Edgeworth had been missing for days, however; it was difficult, especially late at night, when Phoenix's sleep-deprived thoughts were left to their own devices, to focus on anything but his friend's whearabouts. Although a small, angry part of him suspected that the prosecutor had run away again, the lack of warning--no note, not a single clue--had him worried that it was something more.
It wasn't like Edgeworth to leave a case hanging. Friends and family, sure, but his work? It didn't sit well with Phoenix, and the more he thought about it the more he hoped it was another case of emotional cowardice.
A noise jarred him out of his thoughts. Dragging his attention away from the laptop, he stared at the door for a moment before his sluggish mind informed him that it was, in fact, a knock. Weird, he thought. Who the heck would be coming to his apartment after midnight?
There was a brief, panicked moment where he imagined Detective Gumshoe coming to inform him of some awful news, but that was ridiculous. He was pretty sure Gumshoe didn't even know where he lived, and if he did, surely the knock would have been more urgent, right? Right. Of course...
With that in mind, he stood from the couch with a stretch and rubbed his burning eyes as he made his way to the door. Quietly, so that he wouldn't have to answer the door if he didn't want to, he peered through the peephole--and then froze.
That gray hair. The flash of pale skin. That magenta.
With a rush of adrenaline, he quickly undid the chain and deadbolt and threw the door open--"Edgeworth!"--and then, as he took in the state of the man's too pale skin, his disheveled appearance, and the fact that he was definitely not unscathed, all but lept forward to steady his friend by the shoulders. "Edgeworth! Jesus, what happened? Are you all right?"
no subject
He was poring over news sites, despite his conscience's best efforts to remind him that he'd spent very little time preparing for his client's trial in the morning. Edgeworth had been missing for days, however; it was difficult, especially late at night, when Phoenix's sleep-deprived thoughts were left to their own devices, to focus on anything but his friend's whearabouts. Although a small, angry part of him suspected that the prosecutor had run away again, the lack of warning--no note, not a single clue--had him worried that it was something more.
It wasn't like Edgeworth to leave a case hanging. Friends and family, sure, but his work? It didn't sit well with Phoenix, and the more he thought about it the more he hoped it was another case of emotional cowardice.
A noise jarred him out of his thoughts. Dragging his attention away from the laptop, he stared at the door for a moment before his sluggish mind informed him that it was, in fact, a knock. Weird, he thought. Who the heck would be coming to his apartment after midnight?
There was a brief, panicked moment where he imagined Detective Gumshoe coming to inform him of some awful news, but that was ridiculous. He was pretty sure Gumshoe didn't even know where he lived, and if he did, surely the knock would have been more urgent, right? Right. Of course...
With that in mind, he stood from the couch with a stretch and rubbed his burning eyes as he made his way to the door. Quietly, so that he wouldn't have to answer the door if he didn't want to, he peered through the peephole--and then froze.
That gray hair. The flash of pale skin. That magenta.
With a rush of adrenaline, he quickly undid the chain and deadbolt and threw the door open--"Edgeworth!"--and then, as he took in the state of the man's too pale skin, his disheveled appearance, and the fact that he was definitely not unscathed, all but lept forward to steady his friend by the shoulders. "Edgeworth! Jesus, what happened? Are you all right?"