The Art of Approaching Love

Warning: This contains yaoi/boy’s love. If you’re allergic to two men falling in love with each other, you’ll be much happier elsewhere. Thank you!

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His heartbeat was as loud as the ceiling fan going off in Prosecutor Edgeworth’s office. With everything he had heard, surrounding Edgeworth’s career, and their upcoming showdown, how could he not be nervous? The only one he had ever loved was slipping away, and quickly.

He had surrendered his heart to others in the past, but none of them arrested him the way his childhood friend did. The prosecutor was too ethereal to be real. From his hair follicles to his feet, he was made purely of magic, the kind of magic that was sprinkled across the first Spring morning. The kind of magic that caused a Winter’s night to glisten. And it was with a pounding heart he approached that magic, hoping to catch more than a glimpse of it, before it vanished.

Miles Edgeworth was in his office, going through the files of his latest case. Wisps of his brown hair, each one spun by the angels of the seasons, slept peacefully. His eyes, gentle yet careful, absorbed every detail of his latest assignment. He was going up against his greatest rival; he couldn’t afford to miss a beat. That’s all Phoenix’s heart did; miss beats as it approached the world’s most delicate, rare creature.

Somehow, Phoenix Wright opened the door. Edgeworth glanced up at him, momentarily taking his attention from his files, but then returned to the case. “What is it, Wright?”

Phoenix ran a hand through his hair; a sure sign of nervousness. What else could he be, in the presence of someone he found immeasurably beautiful? It seemed like only moments ago Edgeworth was a friend, a classmate, but in that very office, he was much more. “N-n-nothing,” the defense attorney stammered with a smile. He was articulate in the courtroom, but when it came to Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix was just as useful as a crumbled cookie.

“Just wondering if you were all right. You’ve been pretty down lately, so-”

The prosecutor eyed him. “Is this an attempt to pull the wool over my eyes? You know I don’t appreciate back-handed tactics.”

“You know me, Edgeworth. It’s nothing of the sort,” the attorney chuckled, blushing. Despite being a middle-aged man, he found it impossible to keep from blushing whenever Edgeworth was within a fifty yard radius. His voice became tender from desperation, along with his eyes.

“I just don’t want you to work too hard. Please.”

Edgeworth’s voice softened considerably. “Where is this sudden show of concern coming from?”

“Nowhere in particular,” Wright said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with rosy red cheeks. “Just…just be careful, all right?”

He backed out of his friend’s office, and closed the door. Heart pounding, he fervently hated himself for being unable to express more. I love you, he should’ve said. I think you’re incredibly, wildly beautiful, and I can’t stand the thought of breathing without you!

Phoenix Wright didn’t realize it, but those words were spoken.