Chapter Text
“Do the thing again, Edgeworth!”
Miles scowled. “How many times are you going to make me do this?”
The man in blue ignored the annoyed remark, humming to himself instead. “Yup. Even with the glasses, you're still scary.”
The prosecutor rolled his eyes. This man...
The sun hangs low in the sky, painting a soothing gradient of orange and pink. A cool breeze brushed at his cheeks as he trod down the sidewalk. Miles let out a contented exhale. Few things in this world could match the pleasure of an evening stroll after a case won in the afternoon.
Miles was never one to drink a toast to his court victories. He would much rather use his time to work on much more pressing matters. The duties of a Chief Prosecutor is nothing to sneeze at. Needless to say, he is a busy, busy man.
Alas, Phoenix Wright himself has deemed this a problem he needs to fix, stat!
A few months earlier...
The Prosecutor's Building was bustling with activity. New cases kept piling on top of one another. The stream of documents for Miles to fill out seems endless. He was confident in the office’s ability to execute its tasks. Still, he wishes for the citizens of LA to stop committing crimes for just a goddamn second-!
Well, it’s not like any other day is much different anyway.
Miles had fought hard to clean up the corruption from the office. The legal system required truthful, ethical individuals to uphold the law. Moreover, he needed to make sure that incidents such as Phoenix Wright's disbarment did not happen again. One Dark Age is more than enough, thank you very much.
Of course, firing the majority of his employees had various consequences. Miles had received no small amount of hate from the former lawyers. Oh, he could handle that. No sweat. The problem lies within the massive workload for the ones remaining, himself included.
An understaffed office meant that he had to branch out his succor to a greater extent. It was exacting, and he was close to tearing his hair off. As much as he loves his job, he had been spreading himself a little too thin. Prosecutor Sahdmadhi wouldn’t be the last international prosecutor he sought aid from.
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. He had been staring at his laptop screen for ages. The setting sun had already poured through his office window. Its light filled the otherwise dark room with a soothing red-orange gradient. The resulting scene was pleasing to the eye, but it did nothing to ease his damn workload.
“One more,” he muttered to himself. “I need to send one more email, and then I could review Gavin’s case and-“
“Oh no, you don’t.”
Miles jumped in his seat. His head shot up in a slight frenzy. He blinked once, twice, and groaned. He could feel a migraine coming in.
“Wright.”
Indeed, standing in front of his desk was the blue-clad defense attorney. The man bit his bottom lip, stifling a laugh at Miles’s shock. “Hiya, Edgeworth.”
Miles let out a long-suffering sigh. “Wright, haven’t I told you to knock before entering my office?”
Wright raised a crooked eyebrow. “Uh, I did knock, but you obviously didn’t hear it,” he said. “Then I noticed the door isn’t locked. Might as well let myself in.”
“How did you know of my presence here if I hadn’t responded?”
“As if Mr. I Am A Workaholic would leave before the office hours are over,” the other man grinned. “Also, your secretary told me.”
The gray-haired man sighed again. His secretary knows to let the lawyer into his office any time he visited. It had been for emergency purposes, but Wright saw it fit to drop in his workplace for random reasons at random instances. His presence is not unwelcome, but Miles has a mountain of work at the moment.
I suppose I'll just have to deal with him quickly this time.
“Well then,” he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I wanted to congratulate you on winning the State v. Garcia trial today,” Wright sat on his desk. Miles shot him an irritated glare, but it went unnoticed. “I looked up the case for a bit myself. That was a tough one for the prosecution.”
Miles couldn't help the proud smirk creeping upon his face. The Garcia case had been tough. The evidence had pointed to the defendant’s innocence. Still, Miles believed that nobody else could’ve killed the defendant's brother. He had to do an incredibly thorough investigation. It was taxing, but his hard work paid off in the end. He found the incriminating piece of evidence he needed. Hopeless, the defendant confessed to the crime, and the truth was revealed once more.
He had a feeling that wasn't Wright's only reason for visiting, though. He crossed his arms. “ While I appreciate you taking the time to congratulate me, couldn't you have just delivered it over the phone?”
Wright leaned forward. “We should celebrate your victory!" his grin stretched. "It's been a while since we last hung out. What do you say?"
Silence. Miles stared at him impassively.
"No."
"What?"
"I said no."
"Why not?!"
“Wright,” Miles growled. “You know full well how much work I have in my hands. I don’t have time for idle celebrations.”
“But that’s the point!” Wright threw his hands up in the air. “You’re giving Blackquill a run for his money with those eye bags of yours! You deserve a break, and you know it.”
“It doesn’t matter if I deserve it or not, I have responsibilities I must tend to."
Wright gave him his patented dad glare. Miles shot a glare right back.
He prayed to whatever gods up there that Wright didn't notice him blushing. That would be awkward.
The prayer worked. After a minute of their impromptu staring contest, Wright relented. Miles' shoulders sagged. Finally, he can continue writing down the email and-
"How many hours did you get to sleep last night?"
Miles doesn't want to answer that.
"What does that have to do with celebrating-"
"Dodging the question."
Miles gritted his teeth. He averted his gaze from the spiky-haired man. He knows that he's going to get scolded in a minute.
"Three."
He heard a sharp intake of breath from the defense attorney. Miles braced himself. Here it comes...
But the onslaught of words never came. Instead, Wright got off his desk and stood to face Miles better.
"Edgeworth, look at me."
Miles looked, and he couldn't keep a soft gasp from escaping his lips. Wright's slightly tanned skin glowed under the hues of the evening sun. Shadows accentuated the sharp edges of his face. A stubborn lock of raven black hair drooped forward between a pair of wide, ocean blue eyes. Those eyes of great spirit and virtue glinted gold, gazing at him with gentle concern. The sight was breathtaking. The prosecutor felt helpless under the intense stare.
He was grateful that he had been sitting all this time. His weak knees wouldn't be able to support him.
"What?" Miles asked. He had meant for it to be more biting, but it came out as a breathless whisper.
Wright hesitated for a moment. He looked down, thinking his next words carefully. After a moment, he met Miles' eyes again. His expression steeled with determination.
"I worry about you, alright?" he said. "You hardly ever let yourself rest. You're going to burn out at this rate!"
"Wright, I know you mean well, but I can't just abandon my job-"
The other man shook his head, that lock of hair flowing with grace. "Nuh-uh. What would happen if you get sick? Who's going to work on the Chief Prosecutor's duties then?"
Miles opened his mouth to retort, but immediately closed it. He couldn't really argue with that logic.
Wright smirked. "Thought so."
That smirk had knocked the wind out of the prosecutor. His blush intensified across his face. Not even the red glow in his office could hide it at this rate. He hung his head in a feeble attempt to conceal it. Wright, ignorant to his inner turmoil, grabbed his hands, and oh god Miles is going to have a heart attack-
"Take a break, Miles. At least for the rest of the day." Wright said. "Please?"
At that earnest tone, all the fight immediately left Miles' body. He knows he couldn't win this argument. Yet, Miles finds himself unable to resent the other man. In fact, all he wanted to do was to drop his head on those broad shoulders, maybe cry a little, and fall asleep in the defense attorney's warmth.
"A-alright," he finally croaked out. "But let me finish writing this email first."
Wright's face lit up. "Awesome! There's this cafe near the courthouse that you gotta visit. They have this amazing tea that I'm sure you'll like."
Miles huffed, but his lips quirked into a small smile. "And what would you know about the delicacy of tea?"
"Next to nothing!" the defense attorney flashed him a wide grin. "But I swear, Edgeworth, you're not going to regret this."
The prosecutor chuckled. "I should hope not."
Yes, Miles is aware of his not strictly platonic feelings towards Phoenix Wright. No, he could do nothing about them.
The cafe was modest. The windows in the front were large, showcasing a few comfortable looking tables and chairs. Slow music poured out through the doors when it opened, along with the sweet aroma of hot drinks and baked goods.
Wright sighed in contentment when they first entered. He smiled from ear to ear at the cozy interior. His gaze turned wistful, and he whispered, "If only..."
Miles turned to look at him. "If only what?"
His companion shook his head. When he opened his eyes, Miles could see a hint of sadness from within them. "Nothing, just reminiscing," he said.
Odd, Miles thought, but he brushed it off.
The owner of the place is a lively middle-aged woman. Her light blonde hair is typically tied up in a neat ponytail. There was a glimmer in her eyes, a give away of her good heart. Wright was apparently well acquainted with the woman. "Lizzie," he had called her. It was easy to see how they got along. They're not so different from one another after all.
Miles had known of the cafe since before the start of his career as a prosecutor. He had passed the place countless times on his way to the courthouse, but his unforgiving schedule had not allowed him to appreciate the charming little cafe. The defense attorney had changed another part of his life yet again.
Wright had been - well, right. The cafe had stocked some high-quality tea leaves, and they handled the brewing with care. He had ordered a slice of fruit cake to enjoy with his tea, and it was exceptional. It goes without saying that their evening was a delightful one.
Miles had difficulties sitting at home without attempting to reach for a case file, but he is nothing if not a man of his word. A hot bubble bath, a light reading, and a good eight hours of sleep later, the prosecutor was twice more productive in the office than he had been the previous day. Perhaps it was the breather. Perhaps it was Wright. Miles would never admit that out loud though.
Wright saw the improvement as an absolute win. He proceeded to turn this into a little tradition. Now, whenever either of them won a case, they would always visit the charming little cafe. Without fail.
Today is one such day. Wright had been watching from the gallery, so Miles didn't need to inform him of his triumph. After confirming the time and place for their meet-up, they parted. Both still have tasks to do, after all.
They walked over to the cafe from the courthouse later in the evening. The walk hadn't been a part of their routine, but Miles was in the mood for a little exercise. The defense attorney was eager to comply, chattering about the earlier case along the way.
"The defendant was absolutely terrified of you, Edgeworth," Wright shrugged. "It was hilarious! Maya would've enjoyed watching the trial."
Miles scoffed. "At the very least, my so-called 'intimidating display' kept other people in check. A talent in which I am sure you are lacking, what with your constant bluffs and nervous grins in court."
"Hey, I can be intimidating when I want to! Ten years of being a parent had taught me that much," Wright retorted. "I'm pretty sure there's one person who neither you nor I could ever hope to intimidate, though."
"Oh?" Miles raised an eyebrow. "And who might that be?"
Wright deadpanned, "Oldbag."
The prosecutor shuddered upon hearing that accursed name. "God forbid if I ever see her again," he muttered. "Is she even still alive after all these years?"
Wright laughed at his exasperated tone. His higher register reverberated through the air. The voice is bright and happy and perfect. Miles' whole body warmed under his burgundy suit. His heart thumped rapidly. Both dreading and relishing the feeling, he huffed out a weak laugh of his own.
A brush of skin sent a jolt down his spine. Wright's hand had accidentally touched his. It was then he realized that they have been walking so close to one another.
"Oh!" Wright laughed nervously, stepping a little to the side. "Sorry about that."
Miles' throat dried. Unable to find his voice, he gave the other man a curt and stiff nod. He could see Wright wincing from the corner of his eye. Curses. He hadn't meant for it to be cold.
He glanced at the hand tucked in the pocket of blue dress pants. He can't help but wonder how it would feel if he intertwined those sun-kissed fingers with his own. He wanted to take that hand in his and kiss each knuckle softly. He wanted to look at Wright in the eye, to assure him that no, he is not causing Miles any trouble or discomfort.
Do it, the traitorous part of his mind whispered. You have repressed your feelings for far too long. Let it all out.
But he did neither of those things. The last thing he wanted to do is to scare the defense attorney away. Their friendship and bond of trust were hard-earned. They are too precious to be broken by unnecessary feelings. If staying close to the man meant concealing his love for the rest of his life, then so be it.
It's better this way, he thought. Besides, Phoenix Wright is a straight man. He would not appreciate such conduct coming from me or any other man.
After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, Wright coughed. "So, I asked Larry about Oldbag the other day-"
"Nicky?"
Miles blinked at the sound of Wright's alias. He knows a few of his friends and acquaintances use the moniker as a term of endearment. The voice he heard, however, was unfamiliar. It was deep but strained, as if the owner had spoken out loud by accident. Miles shifted his gaze to the source of the unknown voice.
The stranger before them couldn't be older than him. He was dressed in a light gray suit, completed with a striped maroon tie. He would've looked quite formal, were it not for his tousled dark brown hair. His forest green eyes were wide open. Surprise was written all over his face.
He looked familiar, but Miles can't place why.
A glimpse of Wright's face proved that he knew their mystery man. Yet, his body froze to his spot on the sidewalk. His eyes flashed in recognition and something else Miles can't quite identify, but there was a slight wariness in them. Miles was perplexed by the display. That was an odd reaction, even for Wright.
"Wright, do you know-"
"Jacky?"
...who?
'Jacky' is now walking towards them. His dress shoes made a tapping sound on the pavement. His steps were fast but hesitant. As he grew closer, Miles noticed that the man was almost half a head taller than he is.
"Hi," he huffed, eyes trained on Wright. "I didn't expect to see you here. It's been, what, literal years since we last spoke?"
Wright drew in a shaky breath, "Yeah, it has."
The two shared a look Miles can't decipher. The air between them is starting to suffocate him. Irked, he cleared his throat. Both men jumped at the sound. Good, now I have their attention.
"Friend of yours, Wright?"
Wright pursed his lips, "Jack, you know who he is."
"Of course. Miles Edgeworth, Chief Prosecutor of LA," the man- Shires offered a hand. Miles shook it more out of politeness than anything. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, sir. We've met before."
At this, Miles raised an eyebrow. The name does ring a distant bell. "Have we, now?"
Jack shrugged, "I wouldn't be a very good prosecutor if I didn't know who my boss is, would I?"
Miles' eyebrows shot up. It all clicked in place. Like himself, Prosecutor Jackson Shires had taken a sabbatical leave to study law overseas. He returned yesterday, and Miles had assigned him to a new case just this morning. How could he have forgotten? He's only thirty-six!
"Ah, Prosecutor Shires. Please excuse my forgetfulness," Miles gave a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you here."
"The pleasure is all mine, sir," Shires flashed a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have to say, I never thought I'd see you being with Phoenix here. Heading to a business event, perhaps?"
Miles furrowed his brows at the man's odd tone. "It's a friendly matter. We have planned for a light dinner this evening."
The other prosecutor was stunned. "I see..."
Miles couldn't decide what to make of that response. He opted to switch the subject instead. "I trust you are handling the Klehr case well?"
Shires blinked at the change of topic, but he complied. "Yes, sir. The investigation went well, and we're confident that we have the necessary evidence for the trial tomorrow morning."
"Hold it," Wright said. "You're prosecuting the Klehr case?"
He blinked again, "Oh! You're the defense attorney for the case, aren't you?"
"Mrs. Klehr's husband asked me to defend her in the trial." Wright scratched the back of his neck. "It's going to be like the old times, huh?"
The other man tittered, "Yeah, old times."
The tense atmosphere is back again. Miles is starting to get vexed. Why does this keep happening?
Shires coughed weakly, "Say, Phoenix..."
Miles frowned. His stomach churned from the way Shires spoke his friend's name.
Wright perked, "What's up?"
"After the trial," the man's forest-green eyes flashed nervously. "Do you want to maybe catch up? Find a place to eat or something."
Wright shot him an apprehensive look, "What? Jack, I can't-"
He stopped, eyes staring at nothing in particular. Miles could practically hear the scales tipping in the attorney's head. His brows furrowed again. He was getting more and more confused by the minute.
"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Yeah, I think I'd like that."
Shires visibly relaxed. "Sweet!" he grinned. "So... I'll see you in court?"
Wright's lips curved into a weak smile, "See you."
Miles exchanged his own farewells with the other prosecutor, and they stared at the slowly disappearing figure. The man had a bounce in his steps, signaling his delight. Their short encounter was innocuous enough, so Miles couldn't fathom why he was feeling sick.
"Is he an old friend?"
"No, he's not-" Wright groaned. "You know what? This isn't a conversation we should be having here. Are you free for the rest of the day?"
Miles tilted his head, "Quite. I have finished all of the paperwork I needed to complete for the day." That wasn't a lie. He had rushed to finish all of his tasks for the day so he could spend extra time with Wright. "Is something the matter?"
"We're going to my apartment," Wright said. "You wouldn't mind, right? We can take our usual orders with us. God knows I'll need a good homemade chicken sandwich for this."
Miles was bewildered. Wright only made chicken sandwiches at the most frustrating of times. It made him pause and think for a moment. Just who is Jackson Shires and who is he to Wright?
He had a feeling that he wouldn't like the answer. But damn him, he was curious.
"I'll go fetch my car."
"My palatial suite in LA is your palatial suite, Edgeworth. Make yourself at home."
"Why, thank you, Wright. Do you happen to have a jacuzzi?"
Wright shrugged. "We don't, but we have this fancy water sprayer thing going on. It's called a shower."
Miles held back a laugh. He held the carton cup holder, stepping into the cramped apartment. As he passed the hallway to the living room, he could see a few magic props scattered here and there. A white t-shirt was thrown hastily on the sofa. The coffee table is covered with legal files, some lying on the floor beneath it. Spilled coffee and sauce stained the carpet, ruining its ivory color.
The apartment was messy. Yet, it was cozy. Miles loved it.
The prosecutor followed Wright into the kitchen. He set down their drinks from the cafe on the dining table. He was surprised when he noticed the attorney had ordered a double caramel chocolate chip frappe instead of his usual caffè mocha. It looks like the topic of one Jackson Shires is pretty heavy on him. Miles felt a little bad for it, but Wright had been the one to offer.
"I'm making the sandwiches. Care for one?"
"Yes, if you don't mind."
Wright had forgone his royal blue suit. His atrocious pink tie was loosened. The white dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, boasting a pair of strong, tanned forearms. Miles felt his face heating up at the sight. He struggled to look at anything else but the man grilling the chicken fillets.
"Where's Trucy?"
"She's having a sleepover at Jinxie's house. She'll be back tomorrow morning."
"I see," Miles hummed. "When is her next show scheduled for?"
Wright cooed. "Aw, you like my daughter's show!"
"Of course I do. She put on a better performance than you ever did in court."
"Hey!"
Fifteen minutes of easy conversation passed. The sandwiches are now served on their plates. They are now in the living room. Miles sat on the gray-colored sofa, while Wright leaned back on his armchair, holding his cup of decaffeinated drink.
"So," Wright started. "You wanted to know more about Jack."
Miles stared at him, scrutinizing his face. "You mentioned that he wasn't your old friend. Yet, you seem to know him well."
"I guess he's my old friend in a sense, but there's more to it than that," Wright said. He took a swig of his coffee, swallowing a little harder than necessary. "He is..."
Miles lifted an eyebrow, sipping his chamomile tea. "He is?"
Phoenix Wright drew in a deep breath, and uttered the words that would turn Miles' world completely upside down.
"He's my ex-boyfriend."
Miles took a sharp inhale. That was a mistake. He choked on his tea, spilling a few drops onto his expensive burgundy dress pants. His mind was reeling. The words bounced around inside his skull. Had he heard them right? Was he dreaming?
Wright was by his side from the start of the coughing fit. He said something in a frenzy, but Miles heard none of it. The hand patting his back did nothing to help him crawl out of his gobsmacked stupor. He looked at Wright dead in the eyes, his own blowing wide, and promptly squawked:
"He's your WHAT?! "
Wright's shot him an offended look. "Oh, come on! I can't be that ugly!"
"That's not what I meant!" Miles exclaimed. "But I thought- you and Iris..."
"I dated him way after I broke up with her, Edgeworth. I'm not a cheater."
"I thought you were straight!"
A short pause. Wright's eyebrow skyrocketed, and his head reared back slightly. "Is- is that a problem?"
That snapped Miles out of it. He had his fair share of divulging his sexuality to other people in the past and vice versa. He knows that being yelled at is one of the worst ever responses one could get when coming out, and Miles had done exactly that.
"No, no, it's not," he backpedaled. "I'm just... Surprised. I am sorry."
Wright's face started to relax. "Heh, no harm done. My bisexuality is not something I inform people on a daily basis anyway," he tilted his head. "But seriously, I thought you knew."
Miles' lips flattened into a straight line. "And just how do you suppose I discover this information?"
Wright lifted his index finger, but he dropped it again. He shifted his gaze sideways and huffed a breath. For a moment, he looked rather defeated.
Miles prodded. "Well?"
"Never mind that," Wright waved his hand. "You still want to know more about Jack, right? Ask away. I'm feeling generous today."
Miles pursed his lips. "Are you certain? I can't imagine talking about-" he made a gesture with his hands, "-past lovers being a pleasant experience."
"Eh, it's not like he attempted to murder me or anything."
Miles gaped.
"He didn't! I swear!"
The prosecutor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. How did the two of you meet?"
Wright strode back to his armchair. He sat down and adjusted his body angle to face Miles better. His elbows rested on his knees. He opened his mouth, and they began their trip down memory lane. Well, Wright's memory, at least.
"After the incident with Dahlia, I went to study law. You remember that, right?" Miles nodded. "I think Jack is the first friend I made in law school. I remember he was my seatmate in Criminal Law class. He was smarter than me, probably still is, but he wasn't being a snob about it like most of the other students. We clicked and flew from there."
Miles' eyebrows knitted. "Most people would advise against dating in law school. The environment is highly active and competitive, after all," he said. "Is that why you two parted? To focus on your studies?"
"No. Somehow, we made it work," Wright smiled. "We dated for about two and a half years."
Miles almost choked again. "Two and a half?!" Christ, that's a long time!
"Jack is someone who's not afraid to communicate. We made sure that we were on the same page in what we wanted," Wright smiled fondly at the memory. "He was supportive, helped me whenever I needed it. I tried my best to do the same for him. It was a loving, stable relationship."
Miles felt his throat drying. The pangs of jealousy were almost unbearable. Their bond had sounded flawless! Miles can never hope to compete against that.
But that bond was broken at some point, wasn't it?
"If you don't mind me asking," Miles spoke as if he was walking around a land mine, "What had happened to sever your connection? I could not come up with any reason as to why."
Wright's smile turned rueful. "It was my fault."
"...pardon?"
The attorney squirmed in his seat. "I guess you could say it was emotional infidelity on my part?"
Miles looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "But you-"
"As I've mentioned before, I'm not a cheater," Wright said. "It's a bit simpler... Or is it more complicated? God, I don't know."
Miles couldn't hear the man muttering. He was stupefied. Phoenix Wright, the most ethical man he ever knew, unfaithful to his partner? The idea is so preposterous, Larry Butz becoming the CEO of Global Studios and canceling the Steel Samurai would've been more believable.
Wright noticed the predicament he had caused and stuttered, "I-I'll explain, alright?"
Miles was too weak to do anything but nod.
"Okay, so, I have this other friend," he said. "He's... really dear to me."
The prosecutor is getting tired of getting shaken over and over again. "You're in love with not one, but two men ?!"
"I didn't know!" Wright exclaimed. "I honestly just thought of him as a friend at the time!"
"Then what happened?"
"Well," he sighed, "Jack thought I was in love with the other dude. We had a fight. It wasn't pretty."
Miles' voice softened. "You broke up."
Wright nodded. "I was really upset at first. But it turns out I actually do love the guy. Pretty silly, huh?"
A pause. "Do you still love him?"
The attorney barked out a laugh, but there was no mirth behind it. It was a sad laugh, tinged with hopelessness and guilt.
"It was one-sided. Wouldn't matter much now."
The words tugged at Miles' chest. He could only stare at the other man helplessly. It was at times like this that he cursed his emotional ineptitude.
Wright leaned back and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I couldn't hate Jack after that. He hadn't done anything wrong. He's just more sensitive to my emotions than I am," he chuckled. "Amazing bastard."
"But Prosecutor Shires is back in the country," Miles sipped his forgotten chamomile tea again. He wrinkled his nose. It already cooled off too much. Surely you could mend your friendship with him now."
"Friendship? After that awkward meeting?" the other man asked. "He's totally going to ask me to get back together with him at some point. I'm not stupid."
Miles' heart sped up at the suggestion. No! This can't be happening! Just when Miles found out that he always had a chance with Wright, that chance was taken away from him in a flash. The Goddess of Law is a cruel, cruel woman indeed.
But then again, Wright had been so happy when he talked about his ex-lover. Miles didn't know much about Prosecutor Shires, but he knows that the man had helped Wright grow. Him sitting here as an attorney right now is enough proof for that statement. Without Shires, Wright would've been having a harder time getting through the hell that is law school. With a heavy heart, Miles acknowledged that Jackson Shires is a better man for Phoenix Wright than he ever will be.
He should take a page out of Prosecutor Sahdmadhi's book. What was it he always said? Let it go, and move on.
"Perhaps you should give the man another chance, Wright," he tried to keep his face impassive. "Two and a half years of a stable relationship is not an unremarkable achievement. Maybe you will end up happier this time."
"..."
The silence between them was deafening. Wright was frozen in his seat. He was staring at him, unblinking. His lips turned into a flat line, his eyebrows sat in a relaxed manner. Were it not for the honest pair of eyes, Miles would've thought that his soul had left his body. There are so many emotions intermingling behind the man's eyes that Miles felt dizzy from looking at them. After what felt like an eternity, Wright hung his head. His fingers ran through his raven-black spikes.
When he lifted his eyes again, he was smiling.
"You know what? I think I will."
Miles slumped in the driver's seat. He groaned, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. It felt like all life had been taken away from him by force.
This is for the best, he thought. He repeated those words over and over in his head like a mantra. He knows it wouldn't change a thing, but leaving his mind silent may not be the best choice at the moment.
As if your choice from before is any better.
Miles took his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. It beeped, and a voice rang out. "Hell-"
"I need your help."
"What? What happe-"
"There's no time. Meet me at my office at lunch. Don't be late."
He ended the call before the other person could respond. He's not normally a man of vulgar words, but nothing is even close to normal in this situation.
"Shit."
Miles Edgeworth is going to regret every decision he made tonight. He just knows it.
Phoenix stepped out of the shower. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked miserable, but that wasn't surprising.
The conversation had not gone the way he wanted it to. He thought that coming out might lead him to a connection long desired. But no. Of all the things that could've happened, he got pushed into getting back together with his ex.
A complete and utter turnabout. Life is giving him a taste of his own medicine.
He had prodded Edgeworth with the sob story of his unrequited love. He knows Edgeworth isn't an idiot. The man must've figured out who the oh-so mysterious friend is. And yet, Phoenix got rejected anyway. It was at that moment everything fell into place.
Miles Edgeworth doesn't want a romantic relationship with Phoenix Wright. Never did. Franziska would be having a blast calling him foolish right about now.
Phoenix put on his boxers and stumbled into bed. He slammed his face into the pillow, causing soft pain to sting his nose. He had made his choice. After years and years of endless pining, it is time to finally move on. And what better way to do it than heeding the brilliant advice from his lifetime romantic interest? It's the perfect 'solve everything' plan!
Except, he isn't ready to move on at all.
"Shit."
Phoenix Wright is going to regret every decision he made tonight. He just knows it.