boxolawyers | Everything short of...

[Phoenix sighs contentedly. Something about tonight is especially nice, he thinks, though he can't say exactly why. It isn't as though it's the first time they've spent their nights like this: him lying on the couch, head cushioned against Edgeworth's thigh, and Edgeworth silently reading a book above him; the TV on, just loud enough for him to make out some words; Sigi happily curled on the floor at his master's feet.

It isn't the first time they've spent their nights like this, no, but it is rare, now that he thinks about it. Too often Edgeworth spends his nights in his study, working on something or another that can't possibly wait until morning to finish. Every once in a while, though, he'll venture out to join Phoenix for a quiet night like this, and as much as Phoenix likes to complain about the man's workaholic tendencies, he supposes it does make these rare moments special.

Smiling, he idly reaches a hand down to gently (and maybe a bit hesitantly) pet Sigi's fur, satisfied when the dog doesn't flinch or move away.

Tonight is especially nice, he concludes, and his happiness inspires an urge he's found himself shying away from for far too long. Without giving himself a chance to think or doubt, he quietly, boldly says:]

I love you, you know.

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[The words are a shock to Edgeworth’s contented system. Coming wholly out of the blue, as far as he can see, they catch him off guard and leave him flailing for support as his heart seems to fall from its proper place. His body tenses, every muscle going taut, and for too long he can only stare at the pages of his book, unseeing, his mind having suddenly lost all comprehension of the printed lines.]

[Finally he manages to make his mouth work, though his response isn’t nearly as calm or collected as he wants it to be.] I know.

[Phoenix's muscles slowly unwind; the way Edgeworth had tensed up, he'd almost feared a negative reaction or, worse, no reaction at all. As it stands, the response he did get isn't the best he could have hoped for, but it didn't come as a total surprise. He'd expected something like it. After all the hurdles their relationship has gone through in regards to Edgeworth's emotional issues, he'd be a fool not to. Still, a part of him had hoped...

...but it doesn't matter, he supposes. He knows Edgeworth, and he knows how Edgeworth feels, even if he's never heard as much directly from the man himself. There are other, subtler ways he's said it, and Phoenix gets a thrill every time he's able to pick them out. The lack of three, little words doesn't mean anything.

Not wanting to give the impression that anything's wrong, he reaches up for one of Edgeworth's hands, caressing it gently in the hopes that he'll let him take it. His eyes remain glued to the TV all the while, as he tells himself there's no reason to feel so disheartened.]

[Much like Wright, Edgeworth fears the worst. The response he gets isn’t very heartening, either. Silence stifles them (or perhaps only him), and his guilt smothers him.]

[When he finally feels Wright’s gentle fingers on his, caressing with such care, he chances a skittish look at his partner: Wright’s eyes are on the television, but he’s not seeing it any more than Edgeworth sees the book in his hands. Edgeworth’s throat closes up, making it hard to swallow, but he lets his partner take his hand. His eyes are still focused on the book now held awkwardly in his other hand, stuck on one page without the other hand to switch it. He wants to be angry with Wright for putting him in this position. Wright knows what he’s like, what he’s capable of. To expect so much more of him without even a moment’s notice (and, to his mind, so early in their relationship) is unfair, and the disappointment Edgeworth imagines rolling off of his partner should by all rights be offensive. If he had only waited until Miles made the first move…]

[Edgeworth wants to feel that way. All he can feel is guilt and regret and a blinding longing for something he won’t ever have. It was never meant to be this hard. Miles says none of these things, only squeezes Phoenix's hand in what's meant to be a reassuring gesture, and the quiet deepens around them.]

[Phoenix appreciates the gesture, though it does nothing to stop him suffering the effects of the continued silence. His self-assurance and reasoning begin to flag, leaving him with conflicting feelings of embarrassment, guilt, and frustration therein. It really shouldn't matter so much, but...

But he's just going to further ruin the night if he keeps dwelling on it, he realizes.

Squeezing Edgeworth's hand in return, he pulls it towards him for a brief kiss before he abruptly sits up, needing to put some emotional and physical distance between himself and this stifling atmosphere.

With no more than a glance in Edgeworth's direction, he stands.]

I should probably eat something...

[Edgeworth glances at the clock, showing no trace of the emotional conflict that’s raging in his heart at this point. It’s infuriating to be here, both of them knowing precisely what just happened, what Miles just did to his partner, and neither of them willing or able to say a word about. The atmosphere is stifling, but they can’t both leave, unless… He hesitates for a moment then sets the bookmark in his book and sets it aside.] Actually, I should be getting back to work.

[It’s a blatant lie. If there had been any more work to do that evening he wouldn’t have been out there in the first place. Doubtless Wright will see right through him, but he can’t sit there anymore, feeling the weight of his partner’s disappointment beside him the whole night. And he can’t convincingly pretend to be reading when all he can do now is to think about what he’s done and why.]

[Phoenix mentally flinches at the words, correctly divining the reason behind them. It's only too obvious, after all. Guilt rears its head again, and he chances another glance in Edgeworth's direction, an apology on the tip of his tongue... but before he can get the words out, the reasoning side of his brain takes hold.

What should I have to apologize for? he asks himself. It's not as if I did anything wrong...

He's not eager to talk about this, however, nor have his guilt and embarrassment abated enough to justify calling the man out. He simply nods, stretches, and valiantly hopes that his voice sounds as neutral as he wants it to be when he responds.]

Alright, well... See you in bed, I guess.

[As far as Edgeworth can tell, he succeeds, though Miles wouldn’t have risked a confrontation by pointing it out if he hadn’t. Edgeworth nods, quick and far more sure than he feels. By design, his ‘work’ may keep him up long after Wright falls asleep, and knowing that is only compounding his guilt.] Mm. Let me know when you’re going to bed.

[Humming affirmatively, he hesitates a moment before leaning down to press a quick kiss into Edgeworth's hair and then hurriedly makes for the kitchen.

It's not as big a deal as it seems, he tells himself. By morning, it'll all have blown over, the doubt and discomfort only an echo of a moment of stupidity. They're only words, after all...]

[It is as big a deal as it seems. Edgeworth knows this all too well. It’s the truth that drives him from the living room as soon as Wright is out of sight. Once sequestered in his office he boots up his computer and opens all the necessary programs for work he doesn’t have. He loads the file for a case he’s already finished, busying himself with checking it over for errors for the third, maybe fourth time. Anything to continue avoiding that conversation until he’s ready to deal with the problem that he just compounded.]

[They’re only words, he tells himself. And it is only the truth. You’ve known that for a long time now. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to say it.]

[He spends the rest of the night trying to convince himself of that.]

Everything short of...

This icon is an accurate representation of Miles' feelings rn.

poor baby <3

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