Archive of Our Own

To say that Pearl Fey is a romantic at heart is like saying Mr. Edgeworth likes the Steel Samurai.

It’s a painfully obvious fact. It’s like saying that grass is green, or that the sky is blue, or that water is wet. At least, that’s what Trucy tells her all the time—even though Kay will try to argue with them that water isn’t actually wet (which will continue to confuse Pearl to no end).

Pearl can’t exactly disagree, though. She spent years and years wrongly assuming that Uncle Nick and Mystic Maya were romantically involved—and wow, does she think back to those years sometimes and cringe—but the point is, she loves romance. She adores the concept of it, feeling emotions in such a strong way for a specific person that it can even get to an overwhelming point, to the point of love. 

Pearl had spent hours upon hours of her childhood daydreaming of princesses and knights, of heroes and damsels in distress. Of course, now that she’s eighteen, no longer under her mother’s control and has a wider view of the world, her idea of romance has shifted. She had always been taught that girls can only like boys, and that it would be shameful for any young lady to do otherwise. Her mother taught her that any person who liked someone of the same gender was a disgusting one.

It hadn’t been easy when Pearl had discovered she may be one of those people. 

When she realized she had been developing a crush on another girl, her personal bubble of a world burst completely. Pearl had been inconsolable—crying and sitting in self-hatred for hours until Mystic Maya had come to her room. 

“M-Mystic Maya,” Pearl sniffled through her tears, backing away from her cousin. “Don’t come n-near me—”

“Pearly…” Mystic Maya said tentatively, eyes filled with worry. She reached towards Pearl’s shoulder before Pearl jumped back again. Something like hurt filled her expression. “Did I do something wrong?”

Pearl’s stomach twisted in knots. “N-No, no…” She looked away, trying to control her crying. “I…It’s something I did. I’m a bad person!”

She had spent some more time trying to get Mystic Maya to leave her, dreading what would happen if Pearl told her. Mystic Maya had been one of the most important people in her life, if not the most—if she turned Pearl away, Pearl didn’t know what she would do.

But then, after she finally got the words out, something miraculous happened. 

“Pearly,” Mystic Maya said gently, “Come here.” 

Pearl swallowed, wiping at her face. She did as she was told, although she was hesitant. What was Mystic Maya going to do now that she knew? Now that she knew what type of person Pearl was?

She finally came face to face with Mystic Maya and she braced herself. She braced herself for the yelling, for the disappointment, for the disgust—things that Mystic Maya rarely expressed to her at all, but at the moment she was sure she was deserving of all of it.

It never came.

Instead, Pearl felt Mystic Maya’s arms wrap around her in a hug—gentle and warm. Pearl was frozen at that moment. She didn’t understand. What was her cousin doing? Wasn’t she angry with her? Wasn’t she upset with her?

But then Pearl noticed Mystic Maya’s intakes of breath were shaky, as if she was crying. 

“Pearly,” Mystic Maya’s voice cracked as her embrace around Pearl became just a bit tighter. “I am so sorry.” She drew back from Pearl, tears slowly streaming down her face as she kept her hands on Pearl’s. “You know there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

Pearl was confused, swallowing back conflicting emotions. “But—”

“Listen to me. There’s nothing wrong with you, Pearly. Nothing at all. Some boys like other boys, and some girls like other girls.” Mystic Maya gave her a half smile. “I do too, actually.”

And at that moment, Pearl realized that if Mystic Maya—the most amazing person in the world—liked girls, then maybe her mother wasn’t right about everything after all.

Pearl had burst into tears after that, causing Mystic Maya to hug her even more. They had a nice, long discussion about all kinds of things, and Mystic Maya even answered all her questions, even letting her know that Uncle Nick liked both boys and girls. All this reassurance and comfort meant that Pearl wasn’t alone in this—she never had been.

Currently, as Pearl stands in a local bookstore that she visits quite often, she finds she can’t help but think of these moments. She passes by the LGBT+ section of the bookstore, staring at it and hesitating to do more than just look. While she’s realized these things about herself for a while now, she’s only told a few, select people other than Mystic Maya—like Uncle Nick and Mr. Edgeworth.

Mr. Edgeworth and Pearl had a tradition where once a month, Pearl would visit him, and they’d have tea together while discussing all the different books they’ve both read since their last get-together. Even though long-ago Pearl had thought Mr. Edgeworth to be intimidating, she knew now that his center was soft, like a candy. She observed how he interacted with those he cared about, and for some reason, Pearl happens to be on that list too. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she’s glad since she enjoys spending time with him.

She hadn’t planned on telling Mr. Edgeworth, really. 

“What did you think of the novel, Pearls?” Mr. Edgeworth asked, glancing down at the book they had both agreed to read for the month. Pearl took a careful sip at her tea, contemplating the question.

“Well, I enjoyed it! I really liked the main character and the plot. I thought it was really engaging! And when I got to the part with the dragon who turned out to be good, I couldn’t put it down!”

Mr. Edgeworth hummed, bringing his teacup to his lips and taking his own sip. “I concur. I believed it to be quite thrilling at times.” Mr. Edgeworth had a thoughtful look on his face. “What was your opinion on the romantic interest of the protagonist?”

Despite herself, Pearl couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose a bit. 

Mr. Edgeworth chuckled, settling his teacup back down. “Would I be correct in assuming that you are not a fan?”

“Well…I just don’t think Damien was the one who was best suited for Valentina…It kind of felt like it was coming out of nowhere.” Mr. Edgeworth looked at her with attentive eyes, so Pearl kept going. “Damien hated Valentina for more than half the story! They were rivals!”

“Well,” Mr. Edgeworth hesitantly started, a slight pink tint to his cheeks that Pearl was a little confused by, “There is something to be said about a rivalry that turns into romance, as it can be…erm…quite appealing for some.”

Pearl tilted her head.

Mr. Edgeworth avoided eye contact before he cleared his throat. “Apologies, Pearls. I didn’t intend to interrupt you. I agree that although something of value may come out of a certain…type of rivalry, what Damien seemed to feel towards Valentina for most of the novel could be considered borderline hatred, and an inappropriate basis for a romantic relationship to bloom.” 

Pearl nodded vehemently, beginning to go on a rant. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say! Damien hadn’t been there for Valentina since the beginning! He wasn’t by her side through all of the bad parts of the story! Sophia was! Sophia stood by Valentina ever since she saved the dragon, even when the whole village turned on her! Sophia was her best friend in the whole wide world, so that’s why—” Pearl stopped herself as she saw Mr. Edgeworth’s eyebrow raise a bit in question.

“...You believe Sophia would be a more suitable romantic candidate for Valentina?”

Pearl froze. She didn’t mean to let that slip. She looked away, trying to will herself to not bite on her thumb nail—a nervous habit of hers. “Um…Well…”

She knew there was nothing wrong with it—Mystic Maya said so herself. But Mystic Maya also said there were some tiny-minded people out there who believed otherwise. Would Mr. Edgeworth be one of these people? He didn’t seem like the type, but Pearl couldn’t help but feel the claws of fear clutch at her heart.

“Now that you mentioned it, I believe you are correct, Pearls. They are much more suited for each other—they balance out quite nicely.”

Pearl’s head jolted up towards Mr. Edgeworth. “So…you’re okay with it?”

Mr. Edgeworth smiled warmly at her, his eyes twinkling in slight amusement behind those glasses. “I’d be a bit of a hypocrite otherwise, wouldn’t I? As I myself exclusively only like men.”

Pearl let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Oh.” She said in awe. “Um…that’s good! I…I like girls.”

Mr. Edgeworth’s smile grew warmer. “Thank you for trusting me with that, Pearls.” There was a quiet, warm moment between the two of them, before Mr. Edgeworth spoke up again once more. “Would you like some more tea?”

“Yes, please,” Pearl said.

It was as though an enormous weight had been lifted off of her chest.

Pearl smiles at the memory, staring at a book she had randomly picked up off the shelf. She’s glad that everyone who’s close to her is so accepting—she doesn’t know what she’d do otherwise. 

Well. If they weren’t already all gay in some way, she supposes.

“Pearly? Is that you?” 

Pearl’s thoughts are interrupted as she hears a familiar voice—a voice that can be as overwhelming as it is a comfort, sometimes. A voice that makes her feel warm and giddy, and maybe just a bit shy. 

She involuntarily freezes up a bit as she looks towards the direction of the lovely voice, feeling a slight flush to her cheeks. Still, as confusing and maybe even contradicting her feelings are, an easy smile forms on her face. 

“Trucy!”

The energetic girl in question beams at Pearl, jogging up to her and holding a pile of books. “Fancy meeting you here! Whatcha up to?” Trucy asks, looking at her with bright eyes and tilting her head.

“Oh! I’m just…” Pearl realizes she’s still quite close to the LGBT+ section, and feels her heart drop a bit in panic. “...browsing.” She finishes lamely, turning towards another, nearby section. 

Romance, perfect! It won’t look weird for me to look here, then.

“I’m just trying to find a book before my next meeting with Mr. Edgeworth,” Pearl continues. She quickly looks towards the selection of books in front of her, hoping Trucy doesn’t notice her strange behavior. 

Even though Pearl has had a crush on Trucy ever since her discovery of liking girls, she still felt unsure how to interact with her at times. She knows more than anything that Trucy is her friend no matter what, but whenever Pearl even entertains the idea of telling her, she feels her entire body clam up. 

They’ve been pretty close for a while, and Pearl doesn’t want anything to change or become awkward. She doesn’t want to ruin their friendship. So, as long as Trucy is in her life, she’s accepted that friendship is all that she’ll get.

“What about you? Were you looking for some new books, Trucy?” Pearl asks, as she doesn’t see Trucy in the bookstore too often.

“Yep! I’ve finished all the ones I’ve had, so I wanted some new ones! That, and Daddy wanted me to try to find something for him too. He said he wants to start reading more.”

Pearl feels herself perk up. “Oh? Maybe I should invite him to our next meeting! I’ll just have to double check with Mr. Edgeworth.”

Trucy’s eyes twinkle in a mischievous, knowing way. “Somehow I don’t think Uncle Miles would mind all that much,” she remarks, grinning. Before Pearl can even question what that means, Trucy glances at her phone and jumps a bit, clutching at the books she picked out. “Oh! I should really start heading back to Daddy.” She gives a dazzling smile to Pearl. “I’ll see you later, Pearly!”

“Bye!” Pearl calls out as Trucy starts to run out of the bookstore. She sighs wistfully, wondering how she got so lucky to know such a wonderful person. Pearl realizes she has a dopey smile on her face and feels like she’s one of those pining characters in the romance novels she reads. 

Maybe one day.

Realizing it’s been a few moments; Pearl finally pulls herself back into reality and starts to actually browse at the books near her. There’s a lot of new ones since last time—some books with a traditional romance, some that were a bit less so. Pearl isn’t too picky—as long as the romance has a good amount of buildup or the pining is palpable, it’s a good choice for her.

She passes a good chunk of books, her eyes finally landing on a simply designed, yet elegant cover. The book is a hardcover—primarily a darker shade of blue, yet the spine of the book is a dull red, like a burgundy. There’s also a golden phoenix drawn; its wings covered in flames. Pearl picks the book up, inspecting it closer.

‘Necessary Confessions of a Burning Heart’ by Benjamin Hunter…I’ve never heard of this author before.

It’s a collection of poems, Pearl discovers. She opens the book to skim through the pages—a lot of the poems having a sort of melancholy tone of pining to them. 

Well, she thinks, picturing a certain girl that makes her heart flutter in her chest as well as sink, I can definitely relate.

Pearl keeps the book and goes to check out, finally finding something to read before her meeting with Mr. Edgeworth.

Phoenix regrets mentioning anything to that scheming daughter of his. Thanks to her, he now has to join Pearl and Edgeworth at their book club meeting (It’s not technically a book club, Wright. A club would require more than two members, Edgeworth would say) or whatever it is that they do every month.

And it’s not necessarily bad. It really isn’t. He thinks it’s great, actually! He loves how close Pearl and Edgeworth have gotten—it warms his heart, even. But he’s also going to look like a total idiot.

And how is that any different than usual? A voice sounding suspiciously like a certain man who likes to wear a cravat asks in his mind. Sure, he’s had plenty of moments to look stupid in front of Edgeworth—whether it be questioning a parrot or defending an orca—but this is different.

It’s just that, Edgeworth would be in his element, and that in and of itself is scary as hell. Well, law is really the element for him, but at least Phoenix has experience in that! And that’s not to say that Phoenix doesn’t have experience in reading—he was an art major after all, he had a lot of friends who were into literature—he’s just a little rusty. 

But the worst thing—the absolute worst thing—will be how Edgeworth’s eyes light up when he talks about something he’s passionate about. How painfully attractive he becomes when he talks about fictional characters and worlds of all things, how Phoenix’s heart will ache with want as he acts so gentle and caring towards Pearl. How Phoenix will not be able to think anything other than I love him I love him I love him even as Edgeworth talks about things he couldn’t give a damn about.

That’s why he’s dreading it—because he knows for a fact that if any of that stuff happens, and it probably will, Phoenix will be looking at Edgeworth with heart-eyes that would be obvious to anyone who can see him. 

And yet, Pearl had sounded so excited at the possibility of him going that Phoenix can’t bear to say no. Even Edgeworth sounded like he’d be happy to have Phoenix join, which forced him not to try to look more into that than what’s necessary. 

He just wants me to come as a friend, is all. It’s totally normal for friends to hang out! I shouldn’t make it into a bigger thing than it is.

Phoenix finally arrives at Edgeworth’s apartment, trying to shoo all these swarming thoughts in his mind. He knocks on the door.

Relax, Phoenix. It’s not as if you’re in love with him all of a sudden—you’ve been in love with him for years! It really shouldn’t be all that different than usual.

He doesn’t feel too comforted.

Suddenly, the door opens, and Edgeworth is standing there. He’s wearing a maroon turtleneck and some black slacks—an outfit that absolutely should not make his brain go haywire, but it does anyways.

“Ah, Wright. You’re…” Edgeworth looks down at his wristwatch. “...on time,” he finishes, eyebrows slightly raised above his glasses.

Phoenix rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon. You don’t have to sound so surprised. I can be on time when I want!”

Edgeworth’s lips twitch. “Would I be correct in assuming you didn’t desire to be punctual for the PTA meetings you always arrived late for?”

“Hey.” Phoenix says pointedly, narrowing his eyes. “Those PTA moms were weird. They’d always eye me up and down and–and treat me like a piece of meat they were hunting down!”

Edgeworth raises an eyebrow. “I cannot possibly imagine why,” he says wryly, before his gaze slowly lowers over Phoenix before going back up again. His tongue darts over his lips for a split second and Phoenix is mesmerized by it. “A leather jacket, Wright? This is a meeting to discuss books, not start a motorcycle club.”

Phoenix jumps for a second. Admittedly, he’d almost forgotten he was even wearing one. He always loved wearing leather jackets when he was younger and was delighted to find that one of them still fit, so he decided to wear it today.

Still, Edgeworth has a point. He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. To be fair, I didn’t know these sorts of things had a dress code.”

Edgeworth looks at him, unamused. “Hmph. That is to be expected from you, I suppose.” Edgeworth’s gaze once again lowers on the jacket and stays there for a few seconds.

“...Edgeworth? Are you going to let me in?”

The man in question blinks rapidly as if to snap out of a trance. “Of course, of course. Come in, Wright.” He steps aside, allowing Phoenix to walk on through. 

Phoenix walks in, his arm brushing against Edgeworth’s as he walks by. It’s not the first time he’s been in Edgeworth’s apartment before by far, yet he always finds he becomes a bundle of nerves every time he visits. 

He sees that on the coffee table in the living room, there’s a teapot and an array of delicious-looking desserts. “Oh wow,” Phoenix breathes out. “You really outdid yourself.” He steps closer, getting a better look. “Are those macarons?” He reaches a hand out to grab one before Edgeworth swats at his hand. “Ow.”

“They’re for the meeting, Wright.” Edgeworth glares at him, although it’s done half-heartedly. “However, if you must know what is being served, I have made cranberry-orange scones, petit fours, and strawberry macarons. All of which will be eaten after Pearl arrives and we start the meeting.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it.” Phoenix says flatly, rubbing at his hand. “Still though,” a smile begins to form on his face. “It’s nice to see you bake all these things for Pearls.” He remembers mornings after sleepovers where Gregory Edgeworth would bake all sorts of goodies with Miles helping right beside him. “It’s nice to see you get back into baking in general.”

A slight pink tinge appears on Edgeworth’s face as he clears his throat. “Yes, well…I simply thought these occasions would be a nice way to slowly become more involved with baking once again.” Edgeworth stares at him for a moment before he starts moving to the kitchen towards the back. “I wouldn’t want my father’s lessons to go to waste,” he says as his back is turned from Phoenix, a bit quieter. He seems to be fiddling with something in the kitchen.

“Edgeworth, are you kidding? These look so good, and I bet they even taste better than they look.”

Edgeworth hums before returning with a single, slightly misshapen macaron. “You can very well be the judge of that,” he says, holding out the macaron to Phoenix. He avoids Phoenix’s gaze. “I simply had a few mishaps in the kitchen, and some didn’t come out looking as appetizing as I had hoped. I don’t want them to go to waste, that's all.”

“Uh-huh,” Phoenix tries to suppress the smile that’s forming on his face, without a lot of success. “Well,” he wiggles his fingers in the air, “don’t mind if I do.” He ignores Edgeworth rolling his eyes as he takes the pink macaron and takes a single bite. 

His eyes widen and he makes a little involuntary pleased noise. Gray eyes dart to him immediately, but Phoenix is too focused on the dessert. “Oh my God,” he starts saying in between bites. “This is amazing.”

Edgeworth coughs. “I’m…very glad you’re enjoying them,” he says, glancing away for a moment before his eyes land near Phoenix’s mouth. “You have a…” Edgeworth trails off, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and stepping into Phoenix’s space. He tries not to get nervous as it’s normal for them to be in each other’s space in general, but Edgeworth gets closer.

“Edge—”

“You just have a…let me—” And then he’s wiping at the corner of Phoenix’s mouth, gaze intently focused on that area. Phoenix finds he leans in a bit to the touch without even trying, but if Edgeworth notices he doesn’t say anything.

“Honestly, Wright,” he begins in a mildly scolding tone, “I can’t take you…” Edgeworth trails off in the middle of his sentence again, looking into Phoenix’s eyes. “...anywhere.” 

They’re close. They’re really close and Phoenix is going to die. 

Edgeworth’s eyes quickly glance down at his lips. “Wright…”

“Edgeworth…” Phoenix smells his cologne and it’s dizzying.

“Phoenix.” His heart skyrockets into the air. Edgeworth’s tongue darts out to lick his own lips. They look slightly chapped. “I—”

But whatever Edgeworth was about to say gets interrupted as there’s a knock on the door. They break apart instantly.

“That’s probably—”

“—Pearls has most likely arrived.”

“Yeah.”

Phoenix watches as Edgeworth swallows. “Well. Feel free to sit here as I let her in. We should begin shortly.”

Phoenix nods, taking a seat on the couch.

The spot on his face where Edgeworth touched him still feels warm.

Time moves on and the meeting begins now that Pearl has arrived, but Phoenix can’t say he’s having much success in paying attention. All he can think of is that confusing interaction with Edgeworth earlier—how close Edgeworth was, how soft his eyes looked, how soft his lips looked—

“Uncle Nick!” 

He snaps out of his thoughts to find a very displeased looking Pearl Fey glaring at him. 

“Uncle Nick,” Pearl begins again, “It’s very impolite to not pay attention when someone else is speaking. Listen to Mr. Edgeworth.”

Phoenix opens his mouth, lost for words as he looks towards Edgeworth for help. Edgeworth just smirks at him, the bastard.

“It would be well mannered to pay attention to what I’m saying, Wright.”

Phoenix shoots him a look that he’s hoping says you enjoy my pain, don’t you? He just receives an amused glint in Edgeworth’s eyes. 

Phoenix bites back his words at the man before he turns to Pearl. “Sorry, Pearls. I’ll listen from now on.”

“Good. You can continue, Mr. Edgeworth.” Pearl says, and it’s with such a seriousness that Phoenix has to press his lips together to keep from laughing.

“As I was saying,” Edgeworth gives a pointed look to him, “overall, I found the book I had chosen to be quite compelling. The rivalry-turned companionship between the knight and the dragon of all creatures particularly captured my attention. I was enthralled, to put it simply. Especially the part where…”

Edgeworth starts talking about specific plot points and Phoenix finds himself distracted once again—watching as his hands gesture as he talks about it passionately, watching his face scrunch up just the tiniest bit as he gets into parts that make him frustrated—it’s all too charming and once again, Phoenix knows he’s going to die. 

“...and I do believe I have prattled on long enough,” Phoenix hears Edgeworth say, causing his attention to snap back. Edgeworth picks up his teacup. “Pearls, what book did you choose to read?”

“Oh!” Pearl perks up in her seat before reaching down in her nearby backpack, pulling out a red and blue book. 

Edgeworth chokes on his tea, going into a coughing fit.

“Woah,” Phoenix says, about to get up in alarm, “You okay?”

Waving a dismissive hand, Edgeworth nods. “I’m fine,” he forces out in between coughs. “The tea just went down the wrong pipe. Go on, Pearls.” 

“Okay…” Pearl looks hesitantly at Edgeworth with worried eyes before she continues. “Well, I found this book the other day, it’s a poetry book! It’s filled with lots and lots of different poems.”

“Poetry? People still write that stuff?” Phoenix asks, only to receive twin glares from both Pearl and Edgeworth. “What! It’s an honest question,” he grumbles.

“You really should learn to expand your worldview, Uncle Nick. You seem very narrow minded right now.” Pearl said elegantly, causing him to sputter. He watches Edgeworth as he tries to hide a smile. “As I was saying, it’s very good!” Pearl lets out a dreamy sigh. “The author, Benjamin Hunter, wrote so many poems about romance and love, it’s so touching!”

Phoenix feels himself melt into a smile at seeing Pearl as the same old romantic soul that she’s always been. Plus, it’s not even directed at him and Maya anymore, which is a huge bonus. “Oh yeah? Is this Hunter guy any good?”

“Is he any good!?” Pearl repeats incredulously. 

Oh boy.

“He’s amazing! His poems are wonderful. You can really feel all of the pining and longing he’s been experiencing.” Pearl opens the book, searching for a particular page. “Here, let me read you some of my favorite lines,

Forever longing to spread my fingers

betwixt those phoenix’s fiery feathers. ”

Phoenix can’t help the giggle that escapes him, and Pearl’s icy glare shuts him up immediately. “Sorry, sorry. I just—betwixt?”

“What’s wrong with that? I think it’s beautiful. What do you think, Mr. Edgeworth?”

He’s been pretty quiet, actually.

Edgeworth looks like a deer in headlights. “Ah. Yes. Well.” He clears his throat. “I believe betwixt is a perfectly acceptable word.”

Phoenix rolls his eyes. Of course you’d say that, Mr. Victorian Era.

“See!” Pearl exclaims, before turning a few pages. “Oh, and then there’s this one!

We burn too differently, 

for he is a warmth

and I am a disastrous flame

I wonder,

do I live up to your name?

Do tell me,

for whom does the firebird sing? ”

Phoenix blinks. “What is with this guy and his whole firebird schtick?” Pearl gives him a look that could kill, and he raises his hands in surrender. “Am I wrong? He keeps mentioning them!” He points at the golden phoenix elegantly drawn on there. “And look at the cover! I feel like I’m asking a kid about their favorite dinosaur.”

Pearl frowns at him, looking a little hurt. In the corner of his eye, he sees Edgeworth staring intently at his tea.

Oh geez. I’ve really done it now. 

He sighs. “Sorry, Pearls. It’s just a difference in opinion, but I can try to stop if you want me to. Honestly, I love how passionate you are about it! I just have a little bit of a different taste, is all.”

Pearl chews at her lower lip before she speaks up. “It’s okay, Uncle Nick. I understand. I do think you’re being too harsh, though.” 

Phoenix smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.” There’s an awkward moment of silence before he tries to speak again. “So, what’s this book called?”

“Necessary Confessions of a Burning Heart.”

Phoenix can’t help but raise his eyebrow. “Necessary confessions? As opposed to what? Unnecessary confessions?”

Pearl looks unamused.

Phoenix glances at Edgeworth who’s been extremely quiet these past few minutes. He’s sitting rigidly in his chair, looking almost solemn in a way, staring at his teacup. “What about you, Edgeworth? What did you think of the poems?”

Gray eyes slowly drag up to him, looking a bit on the dull side, but that could just be a trick of the light. “Apologies, what did you ask of me?”

“The poems. What did you think of them?” Phoenix asks again. 

Is he doing alright?

“Ah,” Edgeworth’s eyes glance away from him for a moment before returning. “...I find myself to be neutral about them.”

The world around Phoenix suddenly turns pitch black as he hears the all too familiar sound of rattling chains showing a single psyche-lock right over Edgeworth’s chest. 

What the…?

“Wright? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he answers automatically. Pearl asks Edgeworth a question, but Phoenix can’t find it in himself to pay attention.

Why would he have a psyche-lock for something like that? It’s nothing important…

And yet, Phoenix still has a nagging feeling at the back of his mind. 

“Well,” Edgeworth suddenly says, rising from his chair. “I know Pearls has to leave a little bit early today, so consider this meeting finished.” 

Oh. Was I spacing out this entire time?

“Thank you for coming today, Wright. Hopefully this has inspired you to venture out into the wondrous world of reading.” 

Phoenix gives a half smile. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Pearl grabs her backpack and puts it on before turning to the both of them. “Goodbye Mr. Edgeworth! Bye Uncle Nick!”

They both say goodbye, and Pearl walks out the door, leaving Edgeworth and Phoenix alone. 

Edgeworth starts to grab dishes to take into the kitchen, and Phoenix does the same. “Here, I’ll help you.”

He expects Edgeworth to say thanks, but he doesn't; all he gets is a nod, eyes downcast. 

Okay, I’m definitely missing something here.

They gather the rest of the dishes and plates in a tense silence. When they’re done, Phoenix places a hand on Edgeworth’s shoulder. “Hey,” he says softly. “Are you alright?”

There’s a slight pause and Edgeworth averts his eyes. “Yes. I’m simply a bit tired, is all. I appreciate your concern.”

Phoenix frowns. “Have you not been sleeping?”

“I’ve been quite busy, unfortunately. I feel as though today was one of the first days in a while where I was able to relax in good company.”

It’s true, Phoenix supposes. Edgeworth had to cancel a lot of their get-togethers and dinners for months. He’d been a lot busier than usual, even as the Chief Prosecutor. Phoenix didn’t know exactly why he’s been so busy, but he chalked it up to work being crazier than the norm. 

“Well, if you’re not as busy now, how about we do dinner soon? It’s been a while since it was just the two of us.” Phoenix says, watching how Edgeworth seemed to tense up for a split second before relaxing.

“Dinner sounds lovely. Would you be available to come over to my residence tomorrow night?”

It doesn’t sound forced necessarily, but there’s something a bit off in the way Edgeworth’s acting. Still, Phoenix doesn’t want to pry and knows if it was really something important, Edgeworth would tell him.

Phoenix smiles easily at him, pushing all his concerns aside. “Sounds like a plan.”

Relax, Phoenix. It’s probably not a big deal—it was just a poetry book. I’ll be able to stop thinking about it in no time.

Phoenix can’t stop thinking about it.

It’s now the middle of the night, and he just has this nagging feeling that he did something wrong. The way Edgeworth acted was more than just a little strange, and he can’t wrap his mind around it.

Come on, think. If he was lying when he said he was neutral about the poems…

Oh.

Phoenix is an idiot and an asshole.

Obviously, Edgeworth likes the poems, and after Phoenix insulted them over and over again, he was too embarrassed to say anything. God, it makes so much sense.

Here’s the thing: the poems from this Benjamin Hunter guy (what a pretentious sounding name too) aren’t…bad. They’re just a little too stuffy in Phoenix’s opinion, the word choices being too pompous and seemingly superficial, creating something that seems stuck-up. Not to mention that whoever ol’ Benny is pining after—the guy is being put on an enormous pedestal, and Phoenix just can’t get with that. 

But still, he probably should’ve been a little more gentle with his opinions, especially since Pearl liked them a lot, and Edgeworth does too, apparently. Usually, Edgeworth wouldn’t hesitate to disagree with Phoenix about something, but he wonders if it’s like a Steel Samurai type situation all over again—Edgeworth not wanting to ruin his reputation in any way.

Although, I think pretty much everyone in Japanifornia knows the Chief Prosecutor likes that show…

Phoenix has to make this right. 

After finally cracking the code of Edgeworth’s strange behavior and getting a good night’s sleep, he stops by a local bookstore in the morning. He buys one of the Necessary Confessions of a Burning Heart copies (he still thinks it’s a weird title) and heads back to the office to do some work.

Most of the day goes by pretty slowly—both Athena and Apollo are out working on a case and Phoenix doesn’t have much to do. He opens his desk and takes the book that he hid inside it, getting a closer look at the cover. 

Okay, maybe I was being a bit too harsh about the cover. It’s actually kind of…beautiful.

The shade of red in particular makes him think about a certain prosecutor, and he can’t help but feel his mouth form into a soft smile. He runs his hands gently over the cover, feeling the indents of the golden phoenix that is drawn. 

Maybe he should actually try to read some more of the guy’s poems. Maybe the rest of them are better. Maybe he’s just being a hater, as Trucy likes to call him.

Besides, maybe he could get an inside look at what Edgeworth seems to like—for scientific purposes only, of course.

Phoenix lets out a small sigh before he opens the book.

Unsurprisingly, there’s a lot of poems of similar caliber to ones Pearl read out. 

Geez, there’s so much pining. What did this guy ever do to deserve such high praise anyways?

He ends up skimming a lot of them, feeling his eyes glaze over a bit, but then he finds one poem in particular that catches his eye. 

I reach out to you, 

despite your fangs and claws,

despite all the icy glares and sharp words,

despite all the ways you try to get rid of me.

I reach out to you, 

something I had never been able to do before,

something that once overwhelmed me with fear,

something that I never considered to be possible.

I reach out to you, 

hoping you know how much I care,

hoping you know how much it hurts to see you in such pain,

hoping you know my love for you will never end.

Even if you lash out,

even if you force me away,

even if you deny yourself the love you truly deserve.

I reach out to you,

and you find it’s the one time 

you cannot meet me halfway

at least not now,

but maybe

one day.

I will keep reaching out,

until I feel the familiar warmth of your hand

entangled with mine.

Phoenix feels a lump in his throat that he tries to swallow down. It hits a bit too close to home—he’s reminded of his unwavering faith in Miles all those years ago, even when he did everything in his power to drive Phoenix away. Phoenix never stopped believing in him, even when Miles stopped believing in himself.

Maybe Phoenix was wrong. Maybe the author isn’t putting this mystery man on a pedestal. Maybe this mystery man is not without his flaws, but there’s a certain goodness within him that the author is able to love anyways, flaws and all.

Phoenix smiles a bit ruefully, a hand gently touching the words on the page. 

I guess you and I are a lot more similar than I thought, Benjamin Hunter. 

His thoughts are interrupted as his phone goes off. He closes the book and reaches for his phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Wright. Apologies if I’m interrupting anything.”

Speak of the devil. “Oh, Edgeworth! Nah, I wasn’t doing anything really. What’s up?”

“I was simply wondering if you had any preferences on dinner. I know I may not be…erm…the best at cooking, but if you’d like anything in particular—”

Phoenix lets out a chuckle. “Thanks, Edgeworth, but remember the eggplant parmesan incident? I think it would be better just to order take out or something.”

“...I only looked away from the oven for a moment, how was I to know it would catch on fire?” Edgeworth grumbles, before sighing. “Very well. Our usual restaurant then?”

Phoenix smiles in a dopey way despite knowing Edgeworth can’t see him. “Yup,” he answers, popping the p. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll have the food here before you arrive. See you soon, Wright.”

Phoenix says goodbye and ends the call. He glances at the clock, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to end his workday a little early.

After all, he’s got plans.

Phoenix arrives at Edgeworth’s place a little on the earlier side—maybe he was just a bit eager to set things right, sue him. He just really didn’t want Edgeworth to feel hurt in any way.

He knocks on the door to the apartment, holding the book near the side of his leg. A few moments, and Edgeworth opens the door. Phoenix makes sure he hides the book a little bit—he wants it to be a surprise, after all.

“Wright,” Edgeworth says politely, stepping aside. He smiles at Phoenix, but it still feels off.

Man, I must’ve really discouraged him yesterday…

Phoenix steps in, careful to hide the book from Edgeworth’s line of sight. “Hey, Edgeworth. Long time no see,” he teases. 

Edgeworth rolls his eyes even as his mouth twitches slightly, closing the door behind Phoenix. All the boxes of takeout are on the coffee table, the smell of delicious food wafting throughout the room. 

“I’ll go get plates and cutlery. Feel free to put anything you’d like on the television.” Edgeworth goes back to the kitchen.

“Anything?” Phoenix asks, amused as he takes a seat on the couch. He places the book by his side, his body blocking it from Edgeworth’s view. “Even that one episode of the Steel Samurai where the Iron Infant grows u—”

Edgeworth returns holding plates and silverware. He places everything on the table and glares at Phoenix as he sits down next to him. “Don’t you dare bring up that monstrosity of an episode. Fans waited for months for an episode that is a flaming hot pile of garbage—”

Phoenix snickers. “Wow, Mr. Critic over here.”

Edgeworth freezes for a split second before he slowly starts to put food on his plate. He looks away from Phoenix, paying close attention to what he’s doing. “No,” he mumbles, “that would be your area of expertise, wouldn’t it?” 

It’s so quiet that Phoenix isn’t sure if he was meant to hear it. Guilt swirls in his gut and he clears his throat. 

“So, uh. I have a surprise for you.” 

“Oh?” Edgeworth asks, setting his plate down. He angles his body towards Phoenix. “It’s not anything that will destroy my apartment complex, is it?”

Phoenix gives an amused huff. “Uh, no. I just…” Phoenix sighs and reaches for the book, holding it up for Edgeworth to see.

Edgeworth’s eyes fall to the book, and he goes rigid instantly. His eyes flick to Phoenix. “I don’t understand,” he says, hesitantly. 

Phoenix gives a half smile. “Edgeworth, it’s okay. I know I was an ass yesterday. I’m sorry. You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

Edgeworth’s face goes very pale. “...Ah,” he finally says, slowly taking the book. He stares at it and swallows. “And what precisely do you know?”

Phoenix rubs the back of his neck a bit sheepishly. “Well…You were acting kind of weird yesterday after we talked about those poems.”

“After you verbally ran them over and stomped all over them?” Edgeworth asks flatly. 

Phoenix winces. “Yeah…It’s clear to me now that you like them and were too nervous to say anything so,” he gestures to the book. “Ta-da!” He does a sad excuse for jazz hands. “Oh, and uh…the magatama showed me you were lying when you were neutral about them.”

Edgeworth stares at him with a complex mixture of emotions on his face. “I see,” he finally says after a moment. “...Thank you.”

“To be honest, I read through some more of this guy’s poems and—”

Making a pained face, Edgeworth raises his hand. “Wright, it’s—please spare me your scathing reviews,” he says, and it almost sounds like he’s pleading. 

Huh. He must really like them.

“No, no,” Phoenix tries to reassure him, “there was one I actually really like! It starts like, I reach out to you, despite your fangs and claws, despite all the icy glares and sharp words.”

“Despite all the ways you try to get rid of me,” Edgeworth automatically finishes before he goes completely still, eyes widening. 

Phoenix’s eyebrows furrow. “Wait. How did you know that? Do you already have a copy?”

Edgeworth’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room in a panic. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, “...Do you still have that accursed rock on you?”

“...Yes?”

“Nghh!” Edgeworth’s face blanches even further. There’s a tense moment of silence. “...To answer your question, not…not precisely.”

Phoenix’s face scrunches up. “Not precisely? What do you mean, not precisely? I thought the book just came out?”

“Wright,” Edgeworth starts, voice sounding oddly quiet, and it makes Phoenix’s heart twinge in pain, “Please. Let’s not discuss this.”

“Edgeworth, if you like the book, it’s okay—”

“Phoenix!”

Phoenix rears back at Edgeworth’s raised voice, eyes wide. Edgeworth pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Apologies. I’d very much like to drop the subject, please.”

Phoenix wants nothing more than to keep pressing, to find out what’s really going on, but he doesn’t want to go against Edgeworth’s wishes, especially if it means he’ll hurt him in any way. “...Okay,” he finally says. “I’m sorry.”

“...It’s alright.”

The air is heavy and thick, the silence stretching between them.

Phoenix averts his gaze from Edgeworth and goes to pick up his plate, but then he really starts to think about things. Really think about things. Like, for instance, what Edgeworth just called him.

He drops the plate right on the table. It thankfully doesn't break.

“Wright—!”

Phoenix shoots up out of his seat. “Oh my God.” He turns to Edgeworth with wide eyes. “Oh my God.” He steps a bit closer to Edgeworth. “I’m Phoenix!”

Edgeworth is backed up into his seat with a perplexed look on his face. “Yes…you are…”

“No, no—” Phoenix shakes his head, practically vibrating with all this information. “I’m the Phoenix! I’m—You’re—” He points at Edgeworth. “You’re Benjamin Hunter!”

Edgeworth’s eyes slip closed in defeat. His body slumps down in his chair. Phoenix starts to pace back and forth, processing all this information and fitting all the pieces together.

“Of course. It makes so much sense. Necessary confessions—unnecessary feelings. The countless fire and flame references. The cover."

He stops his pacing and lets out a little laugh of amazement. “I can’t believe it, it’s really—” He turns towards Edgeworth, the words dying in his throat as soon as he sees the man.

Edgeworth is staring at the table with a grave expression on his face, saying nothing at all. His hands are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white, and he’s shaking.

Dread drops into Phoenix’s stomach like a heavy rock sinking in water. “Miles…?”

“Please,” Miles chokes out, not even making eye contact with him. He swallows. “Please leave.”

“Wait, wait, it’s okay—”

Edgeworth’s head shoots up, anger and hurt shining behind those gray eyes. “Is it? Is it really?” Edgeworth snaps. “Because I believe you already made your feelings quite clear about all this.”

The guilt from before increases tenfold. Phoenix hadn’t been insulting something Miles liked, he’d been insulting something he made—for him of all people. 

Fuck. 

Edgeworth’s eyes trail down to the floor. “I’m aware you do not…return the feelings I have for you, and that is something I must accept. Please just—please give me time.”

Phoenix feels his heart breaking in sympathy, angry with himself for ever hurting Miles this way.

“You know…” Phoenix starts, “When I first read some of those poems—”

“Wright—”

“Please, Miles.” At the sound of his name, Edgeworth glances at him. “Just let me explain, and if you still want me to go after this, I promise I will.”

Edgeworth stares at him like he’s looking for something. After a moment, he says, “Alright.”

“Thank you.” Phoenix takes a breath. “When I first read some of the poems…My main issue with them wasn’t the wording, or even the content, really. It just seemed like the subject of the poems—the firebird guy—was getting put on a pedestal without really earning it, if that makes sense?”

Edgeworth simply watched him, listening intently.

“But then—then I came across that poem, the ‘I reach out’ one. There was such an emotional rawness to it that I really felt, and it showed me…how even though this man might be far from perfect, it doesn’t mean your love for him isn’t there, or any less powerful.”

Phoenix moves to take a seat next to Edgeworth, careful not to move too fast in case he scared him off. “That poem…was that—was that about…” He trails off, painful memories causing a lump to form in his throat.

Edgeworth sighs, looking elsewhere. “That was about how I felt during your disbarment, yes.” A beat. “I remember feeling—feeling so helpless as to what to do, how to assist you.” Edgeworth looks back at him, eyes a little sad. “And every moment I witnessed you hurting, it made me hurt as well.”

Phoenix gives him a rueful smile. “The funny thing is—it reminded me of how I felt about you when we first met again.”

Miles’s eyes widen a bit, something like hope shimmering behind his eyes. “What…what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m not sure if it was really love at that time, but…I definitely felt something for you. I mean, I had a crush on you since I was a kid,” Phoenix chuckles, not catching the look of awe appearing on Edgeworth’s face. “And even when you were trying to push me away, to do everything in your power to get me out of your life, I could still see the kid in you who was going through so much. So, yeah. It wasn’t love then—not yet.”

Phoenix watches Edgeworth’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows. “Yet?”

Phoenix gently and slowly reaches to touch Edgeworth’s cheek, giving the man time to back away if he wanted to. He doesn’t. Miles closes his eyes when their skin makes contact, and Phoenix can’t help but stroke Miles’s cheek with his thumb. 

“Miles,” he softly utters out, and Miles opens his eyes. “Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you. I have been for a while.”

Miles lets out a shaky breath, raising his hand to touch the one that’s resting on his cheek. “You…Truly?”

“I do,” Phoenix answers. “I love you so much that it drives me insane, Miles.” He starts to lean in closer.

Miles lets out an amused huff that Phoenix feels ghosting across his lips. “I believe I know the feeling.” Gray eyes glance down at Phoenix’s mouth. Miles leans in closer.

Phoenix smirks. “Insane enough to write a book of poetry—”

“Phoenix?” Miles asks, and they’re so close that Phoenix feels Miles’s breath on his lips.

“Yes?”

“Do shut up.”

Phoenix feels his mouth quirk up into a grin as he gets lost in gray eyes. “Make me.”

And Miles does. Many, many times in fact.

To say that Pearl Fey is a romantic at heart is like saying Mr. Edgeworth likes the Steel Samurai.

It’s a painfully obvious fact. It’s like saying that grass is green, or that the sky is blue, or that water is wet. At least, that’s what Trucy tells her all the time—even though Kay will always try to argue with them that water isn’t actually wet (which still confuses Pearl to no end).

And Pearl knows it’s true. But even she has her limits.

“Mr. Edgeworth! Uncle Nick! Can we please get back to the meeting?”

It’s been about a month since the last time she’s had a book meeting with Mr. Edgeworth, and a few things have changed. For one, Uncle Nick seems to be coming too now, and two, he seems to be attached to Mr. Edgeworth’s hip. 

The two of them have been acting so lovey-dovey, and yes, at first she found it adorable, but like she said—she has limits. She still doesn’t even know how they got together, just that they’re disgustingly in love.

“Hmm? What was that, Pearls?” Uncle Nick asks, still staring dopily at Mr. Edgeworth. 

Mr. Edgeworth isn’t faring any better. He practically has cartoon heart eyes shooting out of his head.

Pearl rolls her eyes and is about to say something until she hears her phone go off. She takes it out of her pocket, unable to stop herself from smiling when she sees who it’s from.

Trucy [11:45 A.M.]: Rehearsal ended early, would you be able to meet me at the cafe a lil earlier?

Pearl [11:45 A.M.]: Yes!

Trucy [11: 46 A.M.]: See you in a bit, Pearly <3

Trucy [11:46 A.M.}: (´ ω ` ♡ )

“Actually,” Pearl starts, standing up from her seat and gathering her things. “I think I’ll head out early today.”

She has a date to go to, after all.