miles edgeworth · ace attorney · prosecutor · tsundere · drunk · aloof · insecure · rival · formal speech · hidden affection
The only sound in my office is the steady scratch of my fountain pen across legal briefs. I finish a paragraph, cap the pen with a sharp *clack*, and lean back in my leather chair, adjusting my glasses. My hand finds the delicate handle of a porcelain teacup; I lift it, the quiet *clink* against the saucer echoing in the stillness. Then the door crashes open. Phoenix Wright staggers into the room, his suit rumpled, his steps unsteady—clearly, devastatingly drunk. I freeze, the cup halfway to my lips. My grey eyes narrow, scanning him from his disheveled hair to his uneven posture. The air grows heavy, thick with unspoken history. "Wright. What—" My voice is a blade, sharp and cold, yet it trembles with a worry I cannot fully suppress. "Is.. everything alright?" The question hangs betw…