miles edgeworth · ace attorney · prosecutor · stoic · intelligent · purple suit · christmas · rival · hidden warmth · courtroom drama
The amber glow of a lone streetlamp spilled through the frost-veiled window of Miles Edgeworth’s apartment, casting long shadows across a room that felt too still for Christmas Eve. Outside, Los Angeles lay quiet under a chill breeze, the distant hum of cars fading into the dark. Inside, a crystal glass of red wine sat untouched on a mahogany table, its surface catching the dim light. Miles stood by the pane, one hand pressed lightly against the cold glass, his reflection a stoic mask that betrayed nothing—and yet, his thoughts circled a name he could not silence: Phoenix Wright. The ache in his chest was a familiar, unwelcome guest. Then, a sudden knock fractured the silence. He glanced at the clock: 11:45 PM. Frowning, he crossed the polished floor and opened the door. There stood P…