Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A passion dims with time, a flame extinguishes with a gust of wind, a dream dulls without nurture.

Miles remembered a time, back in his youth, when he had a passion. A passion for painting, for taking globs of paints and turning them into masterpieces on a canvas. It had started with Miles doodling in his notebook, little drawings that he made when he was bored in class. His father, Gregory Edgeworth, saw these drawings, and apparently he saw potential in Miles. The next thing Miles knew, Gregory was buying him art supplies and painting along with him whenever they followed Bob Ross painting tutorials together. And even though he bought the shitty art sets made for kids because he wasn’t an artist and didn’t know any better, and though he struggled to keep up with Bob Ross or even Miles when they painted together with the painting tutorials playing in the background, Miles looked back on these memories with fondness.

With a gentle, albeit unconfident, nurturing from his father, Miles found his passion for drawing and eventually painting slowly blossom into a beautiful sunset marigold. Whenever Miles had free time, he was studying other artist’s work, buying every art book he could possibly find, painting away in the little art room that used to be just another storage room. Sometimes Miles would be painting alone, sometimes his father would be in the room with him, looking up from his work to ask what he was doing every now and again. Honestly, it used to irritate him, whenever his father would ask him about his painting when it was clearly unfinished. But now, Miles would do anything, just for his father to ask why a character he was not finished drawing yet was bald.

It was those moments with his father, moments that seemed so miniscule and mundane to him at the time, that seemed to stick out the most to Miles now that he was an adult. His life had changed for the worst when his father died, a car accident as he was making his way home from work, a careless driver taking away the person that supported Miles the most. Miles had spent a few months in the foster care system before Manfred von Karma, legendary prosecutor, had adopted him. Apparently his daughter Franziska wanted a sibling, and her mother and Manfred’s wife Frieda had passed away a few years ago.

And while yes, Miles was thankful to be adopted, and he was thankful to the von Karmas for providing for him, that didn’t mean his stay at the von Karmas was perfect. Miles was forced to migrate from America to Germany, and learn an entirely new language and culture. Manfred was distant and coldhearted, and obviously only ever cared about Franziska and not him. Franziska was kind to him and genuinely cared about him, but she was also a hothead that would whip him anytime he ever annoyed her. Miles honestly spent more time with Franziska, rarely ever talking to Manfred and having ever only gone to his personal office once, when Manfred read over their bar exam results. Manfred was not a cruel evil man, but he was a flawed one. A temper as fiery as his daughter’s, an obsession with perfection…

…A dismissal of art.

Well, Manfred didn’t hate art. In fact, he quite admired the artform, it was the job of art that Manfred scoffed at. To him, art was something that was innate, you either both had a god given talent and were destined for success, or you were wasting your time chasing something you’d never be good at. And when Manfred saw Miles’ art, with potential though imperfect, he immediately thought of Miles as the latter. Manfred had never outright banned Miles from painting, from drawing, but whenever he saw him making any kind of art a sneer made its way to his face, and he’d immediately criticize a minute detail that didn’t really matter. But it mattered to Miles, it mattered to him when he knew, he really knew, that it shouldn’t have.

So really, was it any surprise that Miles’ passion for art slowly died? What Gregory nurtured throughout the years of his childhood, Manfred had trampled throughout his adolescence. Miles remembered a specific memory, where he was in the garden drawing a rose bush that had caught his interest, and he saw Manfred walking through. He took one look at Miles’ sketchbook, murmured “Ugly.” to himself, and then walked away without another word. It was such a small thing, but Miles’ passion for art died that day. He focused on becoming a prosecutor after that, and he could tell that Manfred was pleased about that. Though he was still cold and distant, he at least acknowledged Miles’ presence.

Miles had become a prosecutor at 20, and began working as soon as he could. Law was hardly a boring job, with each case feeling like a jigsaw puzzle Miles had to solve. Everyone at the prosecutor’s office in Munich was kind to him, impressed at him for having become a prosecutor at such a young age. He shouldn’t have been miserable, he shouldn’t have felt empty at a successful high paying job that anyone would kill to have…but he was. Every day, he wondered what his life could’ve been like, if he hadn’t become a prosecutor, if his father hadn’t died, if he’d persisted through his hardships and succeeded as an artist. A flame that wanted to ignite, but then he’d remember the scorn and sneers from Manfred, and that fire was quickly extinguished.

Miles had moved back to America, back to his homecity of Los Angeles once he’d turned 23. Manfred had given him an approving nod, and Franziska congratulated him for spreading his wings. And though Miles initially wanted to move back into his childhood home, a young couple had already moved in and lived in the house for years. And so, Miles bought a house close to the prosecutor’s office, more for convenience’s sake than for anything. Everyone at prosecutor’s office, like the one in Germany, welcomed him with open arms. The pay was still good, and Miles still found his job as a prosecutor at least mentally challenging.

The years slowly passed by, the leaves falling from tree branches and the snow descending from the skies many times throughout Miles’ career as a prosecutor. Miles had slowly established himself as a well-renowned prosecutor, many rookie prosecutors admiring him and the police department entrusting him with particularly tricky cases. But other than work, Miles had nothing. Sure, he watched shows and movies he liked especially the Steel Samurai, he read in his free time, he had adopted a dog who he loved like she was his daughter, but he didn’t…create anything. There was still that innate need in him, to create, to make art out of anything that seemed mundane to others. But there was no use, that flame had died many years ago.

At least, that’s what Miles thought.

The case, it was really a case like any other. Another trial like all the trials Miles had before, another person accused of a murder. And the defense attorney, one that Miles had gone against and had even lost to a few times, made a damn good argument for the woman’s innocence. Her name was Vera Misham, an artist accused of murdering her own father, quiet and still as a statue, hardly speaking at all. And though the case was confusing, mindnumbingly complicated, and a goddamn hassle to figure out, they were eventually able to come to the truth. The Mishams, both Drew Misham and Vera Misham, were forgers. And Alouette Gouachon, one of the witnesses, was a painter that worked for them. However, filled with guilt for forging paintings, she turned to killing Drew Misham and framing his daughter for the murder.

Alouette sobbed when she had confessed to the murder, profusely apologizing to Vera. And Vera…she looked like a completely different woman. When her expression was initially that of a placid emotionlessness, there was now a small smile. She drew a smiley face in her sketchbook, since drawing on her sketchbook was the main way she showed her emotions. And she spoke, her voice as quiet as a feather fluttering in the wind, and yet it was this quietness, this gentle yet almost commanding voice that had made Miles stop in his tracks.

“This has inspired me…to create…not just to copy, but to create…Because to create…is what makes us human.”

Miles couldn’t stop thinking about what she said for days.

To create, to create, it was such an innate and human desire, wasn’t it? To make something just to make it, to show it to the world for everyone to see, to admire, to criticize, to care nothing for, to care deeply about, it was all so human. Miles remembered whenever he’d proudly show a painting or illustration to his father, who would praise him for having improved so much, who would give Miles criticism whenever he asked for it, and the pride that washed over him when his father told him to keep going. Miles hadn’t created art in years, a hobby that he had admired and impassioned him with each passing day. His art supplies had gathered dust in his storage, the flame of passion slowly dimming with each passing day.

He had forgotten it, he had neglected it, he had abandoned it.

But he didn’t have to.

…Because to create…is what makes us human.

To create is what he was made for.

And it was with these words from Vera Misham, that Miles decided that he needed a change. To hell with whatever Manfred von Karma said about his art, to hell with whatever anyone had to say. He didn’t care that his art was ugly, he didn’t care that he hadn’t touched a paintbrush in years, he didn’t care. He wanted to make art, and wasn’t the very act of creating inherently worthwhile? And if one person could admire his art, see the potential in him that Miles himself didn’t see, well…it’d fill him with the same pride and joy that he used to feel whenever his father praised him for his works.

Before Miles knew it, he was searching through estate websites, for the perfect place he could now call home.

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Adreanna Dallimore.

That was the woman they named the little seaside town after. She was a French woman, having escaped to America during World War II. She was only 19 when she fled from France, quickly settling into the small seaside area that they now called Dallimore. Throughout the six years of war, Adreanna would house anyone who fled from the war, establishing a safe community for those who wanted comfort and safety from the horrors of war. After the war had ended, and as people rebuilt their lives after such a tragedy, more and more people moved into Dallimore. What used to be a small community made for necessity became a town of people, a tightknit group who all cared for each other. As generations through the years passed, Dallimore was named after Adreanna in her honor.

Adreanna Dallimore had become a painter after the war, sitting in her house’s garden whenever she wanted to paint. Most of her paintings were of the sea, every facet of the sea. She painted the mythical creatures, mermaids, and selkies, and great leviathans hiding in the ocean depths. She painted the calm stillness of the morning sea and the chaotic fear of the ocean during a storm. Her paintings were showcased in a local art gallery, to be forever admired and appreciated by everyone who visited. And so, any kind of art, whether that be music or film or paintings or literature, became an important part of Dallimore. Writers and artists all across America visited the town to admire the local artists’ work and the seascape paintings of Adreanna Dallimore.

Miles had heard good things about Dallimore, and its serene and quaint beauty had him soon buying a nice little house in the town. Packing was a pain, saying goodbye to his friends made him feel bittersweet, and the idea of driving for days made Miles’ butt hurt. The journey to Dallimore wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either. It took a three day drive, Miles was only thankful he prepared for the trip there beforehand, hiring a moving truck to move most of his boxes there. Many times Miles had debated and redebated over and over again, wondering if this abrupt change in his life was a mistake, but that changed as soon as he arrived in Dallimore. As soon as he stepped out of his car, he overlooked the scenery of a peaceful seascape before him, which was so beautiful and serene that Miles didn’t even mind the hassle of unpacking.

It had taken most of the morning to unpack only…half of the boxes, and Miles was by no means a maximalist. His new house was practically a sea of unopened and opened boxes, though the sound of crashing ocean waves was calming and relaxing enough to make it a good experience. By the time he was unpacking his books, his stomach had rumbled and he remembered that he hadn’t eaten anything since last night’s dinner, and even that was just a burger he’d gotten from a local burger joint. Deciding that he needed to eat, and that Pess was probably getting tired of barking at his stuff, Miles put Pess on a leash and went outside, strolling through the town of Dallimore.

The town of Dallimore was beautiful, storefronts of all kinds of business from book stores to antique stores to art stores. There were cafés and restaurants that offered a wide variety of foods of all kinds of cuisine, Asian, European, African, and even a few Middle Eastern. Trees and blossoming bushes were scattered all throughout the town, with even flowering vines creeping up some of the building’s brick walls, the green of the leaves and various hues of the flowers a nice pop of color in the area and making it feel more alive. But it was the ocean that Miles had noticed, a wide expanse of sapphire blue waters, crystal clear with sunlight dancing on its surface. Gregory loved the ocean, and they used to go to the beach often every summer. Just the sight of the familiar ocean made him smile.

As Miles walked through the streets of Dallimore, letting Pess sniff at anything he found interesting, he examined the restaurants and cafés in the area. Mostly local businesses, a few notable fast food locations like McDonald’s and Chipotle, and even a Jollibee that Miles assumed was for the Filipino immigrants. However, just as Miles was examining the storefront of a bakery, examining the cakes and breads they had on display, he heard the sound of a girl’s voice echo through the streets.

“WOAH! NEW PERSON! AND HE HAS A DOG!”

Miles was surprised as a black haired girl ran over to him, grinning and shouting excitedly. He could see an exasperated brown haired woman staring at her, especially as the girl jumped up and down as soon as she’d approached Miles, babbling so quickly he had no idea how he understood a word she said.

“Hi hi hi! What’s your name?! Why’d you move here?! Your dog is cute! What’s its name? Do you have more dogs, do you have a cat?!” The girl asked in rapid fire succession.

Miles just stared at her, unsure what to do. “Um…”

Pess barked at the girl excitedly, especially with how infectious her enthusiasm was.

“MAYA! Slow down!” The woman scolded as she ran towards Miles and the girl, supposedly her sister. She gave Miles an apologetic look. “Sorry about her, my sister gets excited whenever she sees new people.”

The girl, Mia, pouted at her older sister. “Can you blame me, Mia? Not every day we see someone new moving into Dallimore! And he has a dog, too!”

“We don’t even know that he’s moving here!” Mia said with an exasperated tone. “You say that about every new person you see! You do know that lots of people just visit, right?”

“I moved here.” Miles said.

Maya grinned smugly at her sister. “See, Sis?”

“Ugh! You’re unbearable sometimes, Maya.” Mia said, then turning to Miles as she added. “Again, sorry. This…probably isn’t a good first impression, huh? We’re normal people, I swear.”

“Sis, we’re literally spirit mediums. We are far from normal.” Maya pointed out. She then grinned as Pess jumped at her playfully. “Aw! Your dog is cute, Mister! What’s its name?”

“Her, and her name is Pess. She’s a pomapoo, a pomeranian-poodle mix.” Miles said, then adding. “And my name is Miles Edgeworth.”

“Well hey, Mr. Edgeworth! I’m Maya Fey, and this is my sister Mia.” Maya then grinned as she squatted, cooing at Pess. “So she’s a pomeranian-poodle mix, huh? I’ve never seen that before! C’mon, Pess! Hi, girl!” She laughed as Pess jumped all over her and tried to lick her face. “Aw! She’s so friendly!”

“Maya is a fan of dogs…and cats, or anything cute to be honest.” Mia said.

Miles chuckled. “Well, isn’t everyone, Ms. Fey? And Pess quite likes meeting new people.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call me Ms. Fey. Just Mia will do.” Mia said.

Maya shot Miles a glare. “And don’t you dare call me Ms. Fey, too! Makes me sound like an old person.”

“Duly noted.” Miles said, chuckling again. And then, he asked. “I assume you’ve lived here all your lives?”

“Yeah, our whole family has lived here quite a while, ever since Dallimore was first established as a town. Our great-great grandmother was actually one of the people that Adreanna Dallimore had housed during World War 2, so you can imagine we have a connection to this place.” Mia said.

“Ah! Then I suppose this town has quite a lot of emotional significance to you?” Miles asked.

Mia snorted out a laugh. “Do you even have to ask that? And so stiffly, too?” She laughed again when Miles glared at her. “But yes, of course it does. Duh.”

“I was just attempting to make small talk…” Miles grumbled.

“Well, try harder.” Mia said, snickering. And then, she said. “Well, enough about me and the Feys! What about you? What do you do?”

“Well, I worked as a prosecutor for approximately 30 years in Los Angeles…and then I decided to quit my job and move here.” Miles replied.

Mia looked surprised. “Really? I’m actually a lawyer too! I’m curious now, why’d you quit?”

“Well, as a lawyer you’d know that I can’t exactly work as a lawyer and paint at the same time, can I?” At Mia’s confused expression, Miles added. “I moved here to pursue my passion for painting.”

“Ah!” Mia grinned. “Lots of those stories around here, people quitting their jobs to pursue their passions. You’re the first one who used to be a lawyer, though. It’s usually people working in dead end office jobs.”

“And I can see why. This town, it’s quite…peaceful.”

“Oh, that it sure is! Perfect place for the creative type, honestly.”

“Of course, and I assume that you do any kind of art spare time? Maybe writing?” Miles asked.

Mia laughed. “Oh gosh, no! I run my law firm full time, with my sister Maya and my boyfriend Diego. Well, Maya is actually a culinary arts major, but she’s helpful.” She then added with a smile. “And Pearl, our young cousin, helps a lot too.”

“I can only imagine, especially with running a law firm in such a small town as this one…” Miles trailed off.

“Oh, I don’t get any exciting cases like murders. I usually handle boring things like business contracts and a few custody battles here and there, and maybe theft and personal injuries…sometimes.” Mia said.

Miles raised a brow. “I wasn’t aware that murder was exciting now.”

“Oh, it is if you live in such a quiet place like Dallimore- WOAH!” Mia yelped in surprise as Pess began jumping at her legs. “Maya! I thought she was all over you!”

“Sorry! I was hugging her but she escaped from me!” Maya said, cooing at Pess. “Pess! C’mere, Pess!”

“That’s usually her sign that she wants to be picked up, thank the lord she’s small enough.” Miles said, picking Pess up and cradling her in his arms. “There you go, girl.”

Pess snuggled into Miles’ arms, making him smile.

“She really likes you, Mr. Edgeworth!” Maya said, grinning.

“I sure hope she does, she lives with me 24/7.” Miles replied. “And you can call me Edgeworth.”

“Cool thing, Edgeworth!” Maya’s eyes then lit up, as she said. “Oh! We should totally hang out! You said you used to be a lawyer, right?” She then giggled when Miles raised a brow at her. “Yeah, I wasn’t just playing with Pess, I was listening too! Come to our law firm! It’s called “Fey & Co. Law Offices”, you can’t miss it! You gotta meet Diego and Pearl! And oh, Steel Samurai! Do you watch Steel Samurai?”

Miles smiled at that. “I happen to have been a fan ever since it first started.”

“Oh god.” Mia said, softly groaning.

“Oh, my, GOD! YES! Another Steel Samurai fan!” Maya squealed in delight. “Edgeworth, you are officially my new best friend! I’m gonna add you to our group chat! You’re a lawyer anyways, you can help!” She quickly took out her phone. “What’s your number?”

“Maya! Geez, it’s like you’ve never seen another person before!” Mia said with a shake of her head.

Maya shot her sister a glare. “God forbid I’m excited to meet someone new.”

Mia just sighed at that.

After exchanging numbers with the Fey sisters, Miles continued his stroll through Dallimore, even though Pess was disappointed to leave her new friends. Soon enough they found a nice Italian restaurant that was thankfully Italian, as cozy and welcoming inside as it was outside, the waiter smiling at him and making small talk as he realized that Miles was a new face in the town. Miles ordered a chicken parmesan with a nice sparkling cranberry juice, with a slice of tiramisu for dessert. He smiled at the soft music that filled the air, looking around the restaurant as he waited for his food.

And really, it wasn’t a lie that art was important to this city, with many paintings from local artists hung on the walls, complete with credits to the artists. All different kinds of paintings, in all different styles and about different subject matters, all showing off their unique perspectives and skills. And the art…something about it inspired him. He took out a small sketchbook, having gone through an art supply spree just a few days before his move to Dallimore, and started sketching. It was a steep learning curve, relearning how to draw again, though Miles found it fun. He started from the basics, learning every fundamental he could, like anatomy and perspective and color theory, and though he wasn’t the best at it…he remembered, as he drew and studies and painted, why he loved art so much.

This new town, the town of Dallimore, with its welcoming and friendly residence, its calming seas and beautiful streets…well, Miles was ready to call it home.

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Miles smiled as he listened to the waves of the sea, drawing on his sketchbook.

It’d been a few days since Miles had moved into Dallimore, around almost a week. Thankfully he’d finished unpacking rather quickly, Maya had barged into his house with Mia, her sister’s boyfriend Diego, and their young cousin Pearl to help packing, when Miles had complained about unpacking being a pain. After unpacking everything, he familiarized himself with the town by strolling around with Pess, who quite enjoyed taking in the new smells and playing with the people who petted her. The town of Dallimore was quaint and tranquil, the people were friendly and welcoming, delighted that someone new had moved into the place. Apparently, though many people visited Dallimore, not many actually moved in.

Miles sat on one of stone benches that overlooked the sea, drawing away on his sketchbook as Pess slept soundly on his lap. Now that he was an adult, he approached art and studying it differently. As a child, though he meticulously studied, had no idea what to even study in the first place. He drew and redrew everything in the art books his father bought him, he’d paint whatever he wanted to, no matter what. Now though, he basically had to go back to the start, remembering the muscle memory of drawing, having to retrain himself on color theory and anatomy and everything he used to know as a child. Most of the time Miles was hunched over his desk, an organized chaotic mess as he followed the professional art books and art courses on his laptop that he had bought. 

But Miles couldn’t deny, there was something…different about drawing outside. About having only his sketchbook, a pencil, and eraser, and capturing everything in the moment. One of his biggest art flaws right now was making it look dynamic, and what was more dynamic than the world outside? Miles drew everything he could see, the people passing by that caught his attention, the buildings that with people bustling inside and out, the gentle sands and crashing waves of the sea. Perspective was a bitch to draw without a ruler, but he found that the wonkiness of the buildings he drew was a little…charming. Less stiff, somehow. As though the fact that Miles wasn’t overly worried about it being 100% perfect breathed it new life.

Art was weird, wasn’t it?

Just as Miles erased a stray line and redrew it, he heard the sound of a man suddenly next to him. 

“Hi there! What’re you drawing?”

Miles jumped in surprise, looking up at the voice that just spoke to him. It was a young man, with spiky black hair and wearing a knitted striped sweater and a red scarf, staring at him with curious black eyes. He was sure he’d seen this man before, though with how small Dallimore was he was sure he’d probably seen him passing by or in restaurants before. Pess was still asleep on Miles’ lap, though he was sure that she would happily greet this man if she were awake.

“Ah, um…hello, stranger.” Miles murmured, shielding away his sketchbook from the man as he tried to peek, glaring at him. “What I’m drawing is none of your business.”

The man frowned. “Oh, that’s no fun.”

“Fun? The world does not just revolve around “fun” now, does it?” Miles initially said with a scoff, though when he saw the hurt in the man’s eyes, he sighed. “I apologize. It is simply…I’m relearning art, and so I’m not exactly…confident in my abilities.”

“Oh, that’s fine! Believe me, I was a shit writer when I first started, we all start somewhere. Or…restart, in your case.” The man gestured to next to him. “Can I sit here?”

“…You may.”

“Thanks!” The man said, smiling. He sat down next to Miles, looking at Pess. “Cute dog! What’s their name?”

“Her name is Pess, she’s a pomapoo, a pomeranian-poodle mix.” Miles answered.

The man snickered. “I didn’t ask, but okay.”

“Well…I’m very proud of Pess, I suppose I have to tell everyone what breed she is.” Miles said with a chuckle. “You may pet her, but gently. Don’t wake her up.”

“You read my mind!” The man said, grinning. He reached over and gently scratched behind Pess’ ears. “She’s really fluffy!”

“I take extra care of Pess, and thankfully I was able to find a nice pet groomer’s here.”

“Yeah! I know the guy working there, my friend Larry, he’s a good friend of mine!”

“Oh? Do you work with him?”

The man laughed. “Oh, no! I’m a writer, actually.” He then grinned as he added. “I haven’t introduced myself, by the way! My name is Phoenix Wright!”  

“…I’m Miles Edgeworth.” Miles replied.

“Oh!” The man, Phoenix, seemed delighted at that. “You’re the new guy that moved here, aren’t you? The one who from Los Angeles that quit being a lawyer to paint?”

Miles raised a brow. “And how do you know that?”

“It’s a small town, Mr. Edgeworth! People talk.” Phoenix replied. 

“That makes sense, I suppose…” Miles hummed thoughtfully, then adding. “Apologies, Mr. Wright. I’m still getting accustomed to living a place as…intimate as this one. Los Angeles is…”

“A huge city! I get it, don’t worry Mr. Edgeworth! I used to live in Boston, I get how big cities are.” Phoenix said, a small dreamy smile making to his face as he added. “Yeah…this place is nice, it’s so intimate. Really makes you feel at home, doesn’t it?”

Miles smiled at that. “Yes, Mr. Wright. I’ve never felt more at home than the past week I’ve spent here in Dallimore.”

“Oh! Don’t call me Mr. Wright, makes me sound old, and I’m only around 21! Call me Phoenix!”

“And yet…you call me Mr. Edgeworth?” Miles questioned, a brow raised.

“That’s different! Cause you’re old!” Phoenix said, smiling sheepishly when Miles sighed. “Oh! Uh…was that offensive?”

“A little blunt…but it is hard to deny that I’m not a young man anymore.” Miles said, then adding with a chuckle. “But I’d hardly call 30 old, Phoenix.”

“Oh! You’re 30? Well, that’s not too old! It’s just your hair that…” Phoenix stopped at the stare from Miles. “I should shut up, huh?”

“Well…not shut up, you’re nice to talk to.” Miles said, then adding with a teasing smirk. “But perhaps you should learn to not talk yourself into a corner.”

“H-Hey! I just like talking!” Phoenix protested.

“I can tell.”

“Jerk!” Phoenix was pouting at that, though he brightened up rather quickly, smiling. “Can you show me what you’re drawing to make up for being a jerk?”

“…I suppose so.” Miles said, then smirking. “If you show me a piece of your writing. You are a writer, aren’t you?”

Phoenix grinned at that. “I just so happen to have brought my poetry journal, so you’re in luck! So you better share what you’re drawing, okay?”

“I promise.” Miles said with a chuckle.

Taking out a notebook, Phoenix flipped through it for a few moments, before he handed it to Miles with a flourish. Miles eyed the notebook, and the handwriting that was only barely legible. He was able to read though, thankfully.

In a Boulevard of the Seas
By: Phoenix Wright

The dancing lights of these faces in the sea:
Stringy seaweed in evermoving waves.

Miles smiled at the poem. It was brief, yet impactful. The smile stayed on his face as he handed it back. “I like how concise it is, Phoenix.”

“Thanks! It’s actually based on Ezra Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro”, I love giving my own take on classic poems!” Phoenix said, and then adding. “I did what I promised! Now you gotta do the same!”

Miles sighed, though he was smiling. He handed the sketchbook to Phoenix.

“Wow! That’s so good!” Phoenix praised with a grin.

“Thank you, it’s been quite a struggle relearning art again. Especially when you haven’t drawn for more than decade…”

“Well, I never could’ve guessed that! They’re so good!”

“You’re quite good for the ego.” Miles said, cracking a smile.

Phoenix smiled sheepishly. “Hey! I just say it how it is!”

Miles chuckled, looking down at his lap when he felt movement. Pess had woken up with a yawn.

“Aw! The little girl is awake!” Phoenix said delightedly, scratching the tuft of fur behind her ears, smiling when Pess snuggled into his hand. “She likes me!”

“She likes everyone, it’d be rather telling if she didn’t.” Miles said.

“I’m glad she does! She’s so cute! I-” Phoenix stopped dead in his tracks when he heard his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket. He groaned when he saw the contact. “Oh yeah! I was on my way to the pet groomer’s! Larry wanted to meet up with me. Hold on…”

Phoenix took the call and talked to Larry through the phone for a few moments, giving Miles an opportunity to take a better look at him. Broad shoulders, the red scarf fluttering in the ocean wind, a handsome face as he paced around talking to his friend. But those weren’t the only things that caught Miles’ eyes, but the earnestness, the kindness that was obvious with every word and action. Before Miles knew it, he was sketching Phoenix, and thankfully he was able to finish the sketch before Phoenix had come back.

“Alright! I have to go, Mr. Edgeworth.” Phoenix said, then adding. ”But that doesn’t mean this is the last time we’re seeing each other! Let’s talk more! I’ll give you my number! Hold on…”

Soon Phoenix had left, of course not before giving Miles his number. Even when he had left, Miles was still smiling, looking down at the number on the scrap of paper he’d given him. The people in Dallimore…they were rather friendly, weren’t they? They were certainly easier to befriend than the people in Los Angeles, and Miles had every intention of being his friend. Though when he heard Pess bark, he looked up from the paper and at his dog, who was looking up at him with a pleading look that Miles just knew that meant she was hungry.

“Hungry, girl?” Miles asked, chuckling when she barked again. “Alright, let’s go for a quick snack. I’m feeling rather peckish, too.”

Packing up his art supplies in his bag, Miles got up, letting Pess lead him away to whichever restaurant or café she felt like eating at.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

“Miiiaaa! Where’s the popcorn?!”

Miles took a sip of the cup of coke that Maya had poured him, watching as Mia fiddled with the microwave in the Fey & Co. Law Offices that they had lovingly dubbed as “Chef Mike”, though he found that rather uncreative. Maya was sitting on the floor, next to her young cousin Pearl, who was happily eating the M&Ms sitting on the coffee table. On the couch a few seats next to him was Diego Armando, Mia’s boyfriend, silently drinking a cup of coffee. At this point, the Feys (and Diego) and the law firm they owned had become familiar to Miles at this point, having been invited many times by all of the Feys, and even Diego. And he quite liked spending time with them, Mia was friendly, Maya was bubbly, Pearl was polite, and Diego wasn’t that smug sometimes.

Every week, Maya held what she liked to call the “Fey & Co. Steel Samurai Extravaganza”, and the moment Miles mentioned wanting to rewatch the series again in their messages, Maya immediately suggested—though it was more of a demand—that Miles join in with them. Though he felt a little hesitant at first, not wanting to impose, he quickly agreed when Maya insisted that it was okay. He couldn’t spend all of his time at home anyways, and he kept promising to himself that he’d be rewatching the Steel Samurai again. Why not watch it with people with him? And this had been the fourth Steel Samurai watching session that Miles had with the Feys, and he found that he rather enjoyed spending time with them.

“Done!” Mia called out as soon as she finished dumping out the popcorn in a bowl, running over and setting the bowl on the coffee table. “Here you go! Sorry for making you wait.”

“Thank you, Mystic Mia!” Pearl said, gently taking a few puffs of popcorn and popping them into her mouth.

“Yeah, thanks Sis!” Maya said, immediately stuffing her face with the popcorn. “Thish ish sho gooshd, Shish!”

Miles eyed the bowl, and though it looked good, he wasn’t particularly hungry.

“Not hungry, Edgeworth?” Mia asked.

“I’ll eat later.” Miles replied.

“Ha…!” Diego snorted out a laugh. “Be careful, Edgeworth. You say that now, but Maya will eat it all.”

Maya looked up at them, her mouth full of popcorn. “Hawh?”

“Geez! Where’d you get your appetite, Maya?” Mia shook her head as she sat down next to Diego. “I swear, your stomach is a black hole.”

Maya glared at her sister, though she shoved more popcorn into her mouth. Pearl meanwhile, giggled.

“Not like you’re any better, Kitten. You’re protective over your ice cream.” Diego said.

Mia glared at her boyfriend. “You’re an asshole, Diego.”

“Ha…! And yet you date this asshole.”

“Well…I just happen to like spending time with him. Doesn’t change that he’s a jerk.”

“Love you too.”

Watching the Steel Samurai after having not watched it in years was nice, especially as Maya cheered at every scene where the Steel Samurai triumphed and gasping at the plot twists that Miles had seen coming from miles away. Pearl was politely eating the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, a small smile on her face as she watched the show. She liked Kids’ Masterpiece Theater better, but she never complained about spending time with her older cousin Maya. At some point Mia and Diego had gone to Mia’s personal office after a witness had called them about an important case they were both working. Not that Miles minded, though he had quickly befriended Mia and Diego, he was better friends with Maya.

She was currently explaining the Steel Samurai lore to Pearl, who looked extremely confused at everything she was telling him. He didn’t really blame her though, Steel Samurai lore was confusing. Just as he took another sip of his coke, Miles heard a notification from his phone. He placed his cup on the coffee table and picked up his phone, smiling when he saw who had texted him.

[Phoenix Wright]
mr. edgeworth! are u having fun with ur friends? (o･ω･o)

“Who ya texting, Edgeworth?” Maya asked.

Miles looked up from his phone and at Maya as he answered. “A man I befriended a few days ago.”

“You’ve been making a lot of friends, Mr. Edgeworth!” Pearl said.

“Well, it’s a good thing! Don’t want him being cooped up in his office drawing all day.” Maya said, snickering when Miles rolled his eyes. “What’s his name, Edgeworth? I might know him!”

“His name is Phoenix Wright.” Miles answered.

“Oh! Nick! Yeah, I totally know him!” Maya grinned at that. “I’m actually friends with him!”

“Really? How’d you meet him?” Miles asked.

“It was actually Sis who introduced us! Well…after he got sued.” Miles’ horrified face had Maya quickly saying. “No! It’s not serious! Basically, Nick hit someone with a bike and broke her wrist. She sued him and Sis defended Nick, and she got him a not guilty verdict!

“I’m glad Mr. Nick got sued! Now we’re friends!” Pearl said cheerily.

Maya gasped in faux horror. “Pearly! How could you say that?”

“H-Huh? I’m not saying he should’ve been sued, Mystic Maya! I’m just saying that we wouldn’t have met Mr. Nick if he didn’t get sued!” Pearl tried to protest.

“I’m kidding, Pearly!” Maya said as she cackled with laughter. “I get what you mean, though!

“Well…he’s a very nice young man.” Miles said, then asking. “And he’s a writer, too.”

“Yep!” Maya nodded. “Nick is actually like you, he came to Dallimore to pursue his passion of writing.”

Pearl smiled. “Mr. Nick’s poems are beautiful.”

“I’ve read them, they are indeed beautiful.” Miles said, smiling.

“I know right? He’s super good! Like, he makes words so-” Maya stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as she saw the TV. “OH MY GOD! THE PLATINUM PRINCE! Okay Pearly, so the Platinum Prince is SO cool! He actually didn’t know he was a prince until he was 16 years old! There’s actually an entire spinoff series based off his life in the Imperial Castle of Jadewood. Geez, we need to watch that show! But just a summary, he was rescued as a child after the invasion from the fire opal Onis happened in the backstory in the first episode…”

Miles looked back at his phone as Maya continued explaining, typing a response to Phoenix.

[Miles Edgeworth]
Apologies for getting to this late.

[Phoenix Wright]
it’s fine! i get it, ur with ur friends watching smthヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

[Miles Edgeworth]
Thank you, Phoenix. And yes, I am having fun with them.

[Miles Edgeworth]
My friend’s name is Maya Fey. Apparently you know her?

[Phoenix Wright]
MAYA???? (°ロ°)

[Phoenix Wright]
ya we’re really good friends! her sister saved my ass when i got sued for hitting someone with my bike

[Phoenix Wright]
that guy who sued me was an asshole (╬ Ò﹏Ó)

[Miles Edgeworth]
That is a rather…interesting way to meet your friends.

[Phoenix Wright]
ya i know lol, but hey i met mia and maya so i’m not mad

[Phoenix Wright]
i’d do it again if it means meeting maya earlier (•̀⩊•́)

[Miles Edgeworth]
…I used to be a lawyer.

[Miles Edgeworth]
And your friends are lawyers too.

[Miles Edgeworth]
Texts can be used in a court of law.

[Phoenix Wright]
OH FUCK (OロO)

[Phoenix Wright]
I’M SORRY MR. EDGEWORTH I AM SAYING LEGALLY RN IT’S JUST A JOKE JUST A JOKE

[Phoenix Wright]
PLS DON’T SUE!!!

Miles cackled at that, laughing even more when Maya and Pearl shot him a confused look.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Miles smiled as he walked with Pess through the forests, the soft sound of birdsong carried by the gentle, cool breeze.

Pess was an energetic dog, she loved to take walks whenever and wherever she could, her little legs taking her to every place that she found interest in. Miles, having noticed the small forests surrounding the forests, had decided to take a detour and walk through the trails in the parks in the forest. He saw a few people on the trail, greeting them a little awkwardly, sighing and apologizing as Pess ran up to them and jumped at their legs, wanting to play. At some point they walked through a less traveled path, though there were still signs that Miles stopped to read thoroughly. Pess seemed excited at all the exciting new sights and smells she saw, peeing on a few trees to mark her territory. Miles knew to definitely take her to the forest park again.

The trees that towered over them provided a nice cool shade from the sun, a few rays of light filtering from the lush foliage. A few berry bushes were dotted around, and though Miles had seen several people pick and eat the fruit, he didn’t trust himself enough to know which berries were poisonous or not, stopping Pess from eating any of the berries that fell to the ground. Birds flew above them, singing their natural song that they’d been singing for eons, joined with the flutter of flight of their fellow bird. He did notice a small cottage, with white brick walls, a chimney on both sides of the house, and a dark gray slate roof. The wrought iron windows were framed by dark gray shutters, though Miles didn’t really see any lights inside. There was even a nice flower garden, with blooming lavenders, lilacs, and cornflowers, a nice pop of purples and blues amongst a sea of the green forests.

Miles stared at the cottage for a moment, though Pess had quickly gotten bored and dragged him away to something that had interested her.

At some point, Miles had noticed that Pess had gotten tired, deciding to take a brief rest on a rock before they would go back to his house. It was perfectly calming, being in such a beautiful place, Miles thumbing a leaf on a berry bush between his fingers as Pess, who was sitting next to him, yawned. However, just as Miles was admiring a flower, he suddenly felt Pess pull at his leash, Miles letting go in surprise. He watched in shock as Pess immediately ran to…wherever the fuck she was going. Miles ran after her, relieved to see that she’d just heard Phoenix and had ran over to greet him, already jumping at his legs. Phoenix was laughing as Pess excitedly jumped at him.

“Geez! How’d you know it was me?” Phoenix said, grinning as he picked up Pess. “It’s like you know me from my footprints!”

Miles chuckled. “She is a smart dog, yes.”

“I know! You’ve shown her do tricks, and she’s so good at them!” Phoenix said, laughing as Pess squirmed in his arms. “Alright alright, I’ll put you down.”

“She quite liked learning those tricks…though I’m quite sure she liked the treats more than anything else.” Miles said, picking up Pess’ leash and then asking. “Why are you here, Phoenix?”

“Just decided to clear my head, yanno?” Phoenix responded with a shrug. “I was writing something…but good ol’ writer’s block came so I came here! Nature always does help me in a creative rut.”

“Ah, I sadly never had that option in Los Angeles…unless I visited a park, which are rather crowded.”

“Yeah, things weren’t any better in Boston.”

“I can only imagine, Phoenix.” Miles said with a chuckle. He looked down at Pess, she was looking up at him with a pleading hungry look. He sighed. “Ah, Pess is hungry. I suppose I’ll have to get her some food before I go home.”

Phoenix’s eyes sparkled at that. “Ooooh! Can I come? I swear I’ll pay for my own food! I swear, it’s just…so boring in my house alone! That’s why I went out, okay? I mean, the writer’s block too…but god! Sue me for being bored, okay?”

“A-Ach! Calm down, Phoenix.” Miles shook his head, adding when Phoenix glared at him. “Of course you may come with me, we are friends after all.” His lips quirked up into an amused smirk. “But I must say…you would be the world’s worst murderer.”

“You’re a jerk!” Phoenix said with a pout. “You better at least pay for my food!”

“Of course, Phoenix.”

“Yay!”

The café they went to was nice, one that Miles had gone to several times. A pet friendly one actually, and it soon became one of Pess’ favorite places to go to, always scratching at the doors and refusing to leave whenever they happened to be passing it. The walls were a light pastel pink, with a few matching pastel paintings hanging on the walls. At the counter was a display of desserts and pastries that Phoenix had struggled to pick out from, before deciding to get the tiramisu. Miles on the hand got fish and chips, mostly because that was Pess’ favorite food in the menu. Soon the two were sitting at a booth with velvet brown cushions and a dark pink table, talking as they ate, Miles occasionally feeding Pess a fry or a fish stick whenever she got hungry.

“…So, yeah! That’s what my novel is about. Not very original, huh?” Phoenix said, taking a bite of his tiramisu.

“Well, not particularly…but originality isn’t exactly the most important aspect of writing. It’s the execution, no?” Miles pointed out.

Phoenix snorted out a laugh. “Hah! Yep, true! I feel like if we were all worried about originality, we’d never get anything done! I mean, everything’s been done before!”

“Exactly.” Miles agreed.

“Geez, now I’m less worried Mr. Edgeworth. My editor has been grilling me to finish this manuscript so we can finally edit…but guess I’m too in my head.” Phoenix said, smiling at Miles. And something about that smile had him smiling back. “Enough about me! What were you doing in the park?”

“Ah, I was simply taking a walk with Pess. She likes walking.” Miles replied, and then smiling. “The forests here are rather beautiful, are they not? The perfect place to sit down and just…think in.”

Phoenix grinned at that. “It really is, isn’t it? Whole reason I go there whenever I have writer’s block.”

“And I’ll be sure to go there if I have art block.” Miles said with a chuckle. “I wonder, though…” He hummed in thought, adding at Phoenix’s curious face. “What was that little cottage in the park?”

“Ah! That’s Adreanna’s house.” Phoenix replied.

“Adreanna? As in…Adreanna Dallimore?” Miles asked.

Phoenix nodded. “Mhmm! Adreanna had it built after World War II. It’s basically a monument here, and people all over go inside and take a look around inside. Some people paint there too, like Adreanna did when she was still alive.”

“I see…and she pointed only the ocean, yes?” Miles said.

“Yep!” Phoenix replied. “Adreanna love the ocean, and she did everything she could to capture its beauty. I think she’s only done like five portraits in her entire art career.” He then sighed dreamily. “Oh, to have your portrait painted! That’d be amazing.”

“I can paint you.” Miles blurted out before he could stop himself, immediately reddening. He’d never offered to paint anyone, why was Phoenix so different?

Phoenix grinned at that, and dear lord, was his smiling face gorgeous. “I’d love that! But that means I have to write a poem for you, you know.”

“Ah…” Miles smiled. “I’d love that too, Phoenix.”

The two continued to talk, Miles feeding Pess some fish every now and again. Hours had passed before they noticed the time passing, the sun starting to dip over the horizon. And as Miles made his way back to his house, Pess expertly walking next to his side, he found that his smile never left his face.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Miles dabbed his paintbrush into a glob of lavender paint, turning back to his canvas.

Staying in Dallimore for over a few weeks now, Miles had slowly developed almost a routine. He’d cook himself meals, delving into the cookbook that his father Gregory had gifted him when he was young. He’d actually gotten better at cooking, which was great, considering that he’d burnt a fried egg to a crisp once. Every day he’d walk Pess around the town and forest parks, letting her make new friends with the other pets walking on the streets. Miles would meet up with the Feys, watching the Steel Samurai with Maya and Pearl, and occasionally helping Mia and Diego with particularly difficult cases. And then there was Phoenix and his friend Larry, with Phoenix often inviting him over to hang out, with Phoenix laughing as he took him through all of the local art events that the town of Dallimore was holding.

And in his free time, Miles would draw and paint. Whenever he wasn’t meticulously studying art in his office, he would be outside in the public drawing everything that he saw. He would sit and let the passersby go on their daily lives, sketching in his watercolor sketchbook and then painting it with the small travel watercolor set he had bought. He drew and painted everything he saw, the scenery that surrounded him, the people that he saw sitting on the benches or talking on the phone with someone. Some people stopped what they were doing to watch him, other struck conversation with him. If Miles was younger, it would’ve annoyed him. But now that he was older, it was almost…nice knowing that someone cared enough about his art to stop and ask.

Oil painting, however, Miles liked to do on his backyard porch. He would search for reference pictures and would draw thumbnail sketches on his sketchbook, before he soon moved on to painting whatever he had in mind. Miles loved it, the process of dipping his toes back into art, when he had abandoned it all those years ago. It was like revisiting an old friend, talking with them and catching up, relearning all over again why he enjoyed spending time with them so much. The passions in his mind, the fireflies of every creative thought he ever had in his life, slowly stirred awake, going from a dim dying flame to an overwhelming blooming light.

Though, as he stared at the canvas…he felt absolutely nothing.

He sighed.

Art wasn’t a perfect process, dear lord was it not. He had forgotten how unforgiving art could be, and how sometimes no matter how he worked, how many times he tried and tried again, it just…didn’t work. His perfectionism didn’t make things any better, what used to be just a seedling that Manfred von Karma had forced to grow into a brambly bush. Sometimes, whenever Miles stared at the blank white canvas, he wondered why he even moved to Dallimore in the first place. Most of the time he’d be staring at his canvas or sketchbook for what felt like hours, but the idea of ruining a blank canvas with his work had him hesitant. Other times, he’d be working endlessly on a painting, but it would never work, and he’d just groan and put it in his artist corner of shame.

And it looked like this painting would be one of them.

Miles sighed, looking at the reference photo of the lavender field that he wanted to paint. He’d made many thumbnail sketches and paintings in his watercolor sketchbook, but now that he actually saw the canvas, held a paintbrush in one hand and a palette with oil paints in the other, he had no idea how to approach this painting. He painted a stroke of lavender paint on the canvas, hated it, and then sighed. Watercolor paintings and thumbnail sketches were one thing, but oil painting was a whole other beast. Miles remembered just how much research and preparation he made for oil painting…and it seemed he wasn’t ready, no matter how much he loathed that idea.

God, he hated art.

Why did he do this? Why did he quit his job, his stable job, just to chase some dumb dream he wasn’t even that good at? Maybe Manfred was right, maybe he wasn’t meant to be an artist. Maybe he should go back to Los Angeles and his job as a prosecutor-

Miles groaned at that. No, he shouldn’t think that. He moved here to Dallimore for a reason. He was miserable as a prosecutor, lived only to live and nothing else. Sure, he wasn’t the best artist in the world and struggled sometimes, that didn’t mean he had to quit at the smallest failure. Maybe he just needed a break, he’d been in his office for far too long. He gently placed his palette and paintbrush on the table—oil paint took long to dry anyways— and went inside to get himself a glass of water, maybe a cup of tea. When he was inside, sitting on the sofa and sipping a teacup of oolong tea with lemon, he smiled a little. Yes, this was relaxing. Still no ideas for his painting, but he was calmer.

His phone was on the coffee table, and curiously, Miles picked it, seeing a few notifications on his phone. He replied to them, telling Maya that he was available to hang out with her next Saturday, and then he saw the messages from Phoenix.

[Phoenix Wright]
(strawberrysmoothie.jpeg)

[Phoenix Wright]
we should go here mr. edgeworth! their tea is rlly good tooヽ(*◕▽◕*)ﾉ

[Phoenix Wright]
i know u don’t like milk tea but u should really try theirs it’s rlly good!!!

Miles smiled at that.

Phoenix was a passionate young man, Miles had learnt as he spent more and more time with him. He would ramble on and on about novels that he loved, and then he’d blush and sheepishly smile when he realized he’d been talking too much. There was a fiery ferocity whenever he talked about writing, as though he loved every part of the art form of literature, no matter what. But he wasn’t only passionate and fierce, but he was also resilient. Phoenix was very open about his struggles with writer’s block, and Miles remembered one time, when he asked him how he dealt with it. Phoenix had just laughed at that, his voice melodious as he said.

“Well Mr. Edgeworth, it’s natural to struggle as a creative! But…I think the struggles are important too, cause I mean, art would be boring without the struggle!  You just gotta persevere! Show that blank screen who’s boss!”

Persevere…

Before Miles knew it, he was back on the porch, painting a bright blue sky on the canvas with blue oil paints.

You just gotta persevere!

Miles smiled at that.

And as he painted, settling into a tranquil trance, all he could hear was Phoenix’s melodious laugh.

Chapter Text

Miles looked up at the art gallery that the Feys had taken him to, and he smiled.

The Utsumi Art Gallery was founded by Utsumi Kaito, a dear friend of Adreanna’s and one of the first who fled to Dallimore during World War II. He was a sculptor, tapping into his Japanese heritage with the grand sculptures of sea serpents and dragons that he made. Noticing how much art the people of Dallimore created, he soon created the art gallery, allowing for people all across the town to show off their creations. And as Utsumi died, and as different people handed the art gallery and as decades passed by, the Utsumi Art Gallery became a beacon of pure human creativity and artistry in the town, with artists all across the country visiting the gallery just to see the unique creations of the people in Dallimore.

Miles had been itching to visit, though he found himself too busy. But when he had casually mentioned it to Maya, she immediately demanded they go visit. Before he knew it, Maya was dragging him, Mia, Pearl, and Diego along to the art gallery. Not that he really minded, he should’ve finally went there. Maya was talking loudly about the artists whose works were featured in the gallery, and Miles recognized many names from a group chat of artists in Dallimore that he had joined. Mia and Diego would chime in every now and again, Mia with a fun fact, and Diego with a snarky remark or a coffee quip. Pearl though kept mostly quiet, giggling at Diego’s horrible jokes. Miles had to admit, there was something…heartwarming about how quickly the Feys had accepted him into their group.

The art gallery was a small, quaint, and beautiful building. It was nestled between an antique shop and a bakery, almost powerful in its simple humility. Faded red brick with flowering vines creeping up the cracks, the sign for the art gallery had a deep dark blue design, with cursive white letters that read “THE UTSUMI ART GALLERY”, clean and almost quaint in a way. From the windows Miles could already see some of the art pieces from inside, though he could hardly see any of them from the sunlight reflecting on the window’s glass. It was a far cry from the bigger and sleeker art galleries in Los Angeles that Miles used to pass by often, something smaller and more intimate, infinitely charming and exuding personality.

Maya was grinning, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“We’re here!’ Maya cried out excitedly. “Come on, Edgeworth! We gotta see all the paintings! And the sculptures! And the art installations! I think they even have a few ice sculptures!”

“Ice sculptures?” Pearl smiled. “That sounds so pretty, Mystic Maya! I just hope they haven’t melted…”

“They put it in a cold room, duh! Now c’mon, let’s go! We don’t have time to waste!” Maya said.

“But the art isn’t going anywhere…” Pearl replied.

“Pearly, we gotta go now!”

Mia laughed. “Why are you so excited, Maya? You’ve been here plenty of times.”

“Ha…! Let her be excited, Kitten.” Diego replied.

“Yeah, Sis! Meanie!” Maya said, sticking her tongue out at Mia, giggling when her sister rolled her eyes. “But seriously, I’m excited cause Edgeworth is here! And he’s an artist! We’ll get an artist’s perspective on all the art inside! Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

“Please, Maya. I’m just a hobbyist.” Miles said with a chuckle.

“But your art is so good, Mr. Edgeworth!” Pearl said.

“You can be good as a hobbyist, Pearl.” Mia replied.

Diego chortled. “Or bad, like Kitten when she first started gardening…or now. I swear, even Hades himself has a greener thumb than her.”

Mia glared at her boyfriend, and he laughed again.

As soon as they were inside, which was thankfully free for the public to view, Miles looked around in awe at all of the art surrounding him. The walls were painted with a sleek dark paint, lights from above bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. There were several statues and sculptures of all kinds on podiums, from marble statues of nude people inspired by Roman sculptures, to wooden sculptures of various mythological characters from all kinds of cultures. There were also multiple paintings, framed with ornate wooden frames and little golden plaques beneath them, describing the information about the paintings. It was all so overwhelming, but in the best way. He was so excited he didn’t even know where to start.

“Oh, wow…” Miles murmured to himself. “This is…incredible.”

Maya raised a brow at him. “Don’t they have art galleries in L.A?”

“Yes, but I simply never had the time to visit them.” Miles replied.

“An artist who’s never been in an art gallery…” Diego snorted out a laugh, nursing a mug that practically appeared out of nowhere. ‘That’s like coffee without any caffeine.”

“Diego, don’t be a jerk.” Mia said, then shooting him a bewildered look as he took a sip of his coffee. “And where the hell did you get that coffee mug? You didn’t bring that!”

Diego winked at his girlfriend. “That’s a secret, Kitten.”

Mia groaned.

They started to look through all of the art pieces, Miles making a mental note to try out any of the techniques and styles that he hadn’t used in his own art before. He could recognize all of the styles and inspirations of each individual artist, from Claude Monet and Impressionism, to Gustave Courbet and Realism, to Vincent van Gogh and Expressionism. He’d learnt them all when he was researching art when he first moved to Dallimore, and he couldn’t help but feel proud as Maya and Pearl looked at him in awe when he described art history. Mia and Diego weren’t as impressed though, and Miles chose to ignore Diego whenever he made a snarky remark that he somehow always related to coffee. How did he do that?

Mia, Diego and Pearl had gone off to examine a wooden sculpture made by one of their great grandaunts, while Maya stayed around with Miles, too interested in what he had to say to leave him.Just as he was examining a Dadaist painting, he heard the voice of a familiar writer from beside him.

“Mr. Edgeworth?”

Miles turned to beside him, smiling when he saw Larry and Phoenix. Larry must’ve had a day off from the pet groomer’s…or he broke up with his latest girlfriend, you never really knew when it came to him. Phoenix looked surprised to see him, though pleasantly surprised, if the smile on his had anything to say about that.

“Phoenix? What’re you doing here?” Miles asked.

Phoenix shrugged. “Just felt like it, and Larry has been grilling me to come, since one of his girlfriends’ paintings is here.” He nudged Larry’s arm. “Right, Larry?”

“Huh?” Larry turned to Miles, grinning when he saw him. “Oh! Hey, Edgey! Finally decided to come here, eh dude?”

“Maya dragged me here.” Miles replied with a chuckle.

“Hey Nick! Hey Larry!” Maya greeted them with a grin.

“Yooo! It’s Maya, hey Maya!” Larry said.

Phoenix smiled at her. “I’m surprised to see you here, Maya. I thought you told me you got bored of the art gallery.”

“Well yeah! But Edgeworth’s never been here before, and he’s an artist! It’s like, a crime for him not to come here!” Maya replied.

“And…you’re his tour guide?” Phoenix questioned with a brow raise.

“Hey! Better than him by himself!” Maya shot back.

Miles chuckled. “I can handle myself, Maya.”

“I mean, yeah…but I wanna know your perspective on art, man! It’s interesting!”

“You look bored to death when I explained the history of Impressionism.”

“Hey, it’s a good bored to death!” Maya said.

Miles raised a brow, though he was smiling.

Larry cackled. “I think that’s her way of saying she likes being around ya, Edgey!”

“Yeah! In her own Maya way.” Phoenix added, then smiling. “And yeah…I’d love to listen about what you think of these paintings.” His smile then turned into a grin. “But you know what I’d love more? Your paintings being in the art gallery!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Larry gasped. “Dude, you gotta submit a painting here!”

“I’d love to, though…not right now. Maybe in the future, I suppose.” Miles said.

“Why not?” Maya asked

“Ah, err…” Miles hummed in thought, and then he said. “It’s just…I’m not confident enough in my abilities as an artist yet. You must understand that I’ve only recently returned to art, and well…it painfully shows.”

“Aw man, lame.” Maya said, frowning.

“Well, that’s understandable! It took me a while before I was confident enough to start publishing, but even now I’m not that confident.” Phoenix said, then adding. “But your paintings are good, Mr. Edgeworth! Maybe you should find a muse, they usually like, get artists all inspired right?”

Miles smiled at the idea of it, painting Phoenix. All the different artworks and paintings of him he could make. Before he knew it, he blurted out. “You can be my muse, Phoenix.”

Maya and Larry raised their brows at him, meanwhile Phoenix was smiling.

“Ah! I’d love to, Mr. Edgeworth!” Phoenix said, and then he laughed. And dammit, his laugh sounded so beautiful. “But I’m not that interesting of a person, you’d get bored pretty quickly.”

“Quite the contrary, Phoenix. I’ve been itching to paint a portrait of a live subject. And I feel as though you’d be the perfect subject.” Miles said, giving Phoenix a small smile. “I do find you…fascinating.”

Maya and Larry shot each other bewildered looks.

“Oh, Mr. Edgeworth…” The smile Phoenix gave Miles was soft and tender. “I’d love that, I really would. I love your art, it’s so pretty! I’d be honored to be…” He reddened a little, a gentle blush. “…To be painted by you.”

“Phoenix…” Miles trailed off.

Miles realized that Maya and Larry were there, and he cleared his throat. “But ah…yes. Painting you. Perhaps we can discuss this further?”

Phoenix grinned at that. “Oh! I’d love that, Mr. Edgeworth! I’ll text you the deets!”

After exchanging a few more words, Larry and Phoenix soon left, something about a cat that Larry needed to groom. And as they left, Miles couldn’t help the smile on his face. He could just imagine it, painting Phoenix, taking such a unique man…no, unique friend, and trying to capture everything about him that was amazing. Miles was much better with landscapes and still lifes, but painting Phoenix…didn’t that sound wonderful?

“What was that about, Edgeworth?” Mia asked.

Miles turned behind him, seeing Mia smiling and Diego smirking. Even Maya was grinning at him. He was confused as hell, why were they all looking at him like that?

“What was what?” Miles asked.

“You flirting with Nick, Edgeworth!” Maya said with a grin.

Miles sighed. “I was not flirting, Maya.”

“Wait, they were flirting?” Pearl looked confused.

“Yes they were, Pearl.” Mia said.

Pearl smiled, “Oh! Okay!”

“I was not flirting!” Miles protested.

“Not flirting? Ha…! That’s as untrue as coffee being the worst beverage known to man.” Diego took a sip out of an entirely different mug. “You were flirting.”

Mia shot Diego an exasperated look. “Where’d you get that from? Didn’t the guard confiscate your coffee?”

“You assume I only bring one mug of coffee?” Diego asked with a smirk.

“Never mind.” Mia said with a groan.

“Guys! Stop talking about boring stuff!” Maya shot Miles a mischievous grin. “Let’s talk about more interesting things…like Edgeworth’s love life!”

“I’d hardly call my love life interesting, Maya. It’s nonexistent.” Miles said.

“Are you and Mr. Nick special someones, Mr. Edgeworth?” Pearl asked innocently.

“No, Pearl. He’s quite a great friend of mine, but we are not…err, “special someones”, as you put it.” Miles said.

“Really, now?” Mia asked, then adding. “You’ve never offered to paint anyone, Edgeworth.”

“So? He’s a close friend of mine, of course I offered to paint him.” Miles shot back.

“When I asked you to paint me and Mia, you showed us your PayPal.” Diego shot back.

Miles scoffed. “My art does not come for free, Mr. Armando.”

“It does for Phoenix.” Mia replied.

“You’re all ridiculous.” Miles said, shaking his head. “Perhaps we should focus on all of the art surrounding us…in the art gallery, yes?”

“Yeah! We need to see the ice sculptures! I’m so excited to see them!” Maya said, then winking at Miles. “And you can worry about texting Nick about your painting date later!”

“What? What are you- Maya!”

Miles followed after the Feys and Diego as they made their way to the ice sculptures. Thankfully, they’ve moved on from the topic of Miles’ love life, with Pearl, Mia, and Diego admiring the ice sculptures, and Maya shivering from the cold.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

“Mr. Edgewoooorth? Open the door!”

Miles sighed as he heard the sounds of the doorbell ring all throughout the house over and over again, one thing he’d learnt about Phoenix over the weeks that he’d spent with him was that he was an impatient man. Though, he supposed he was excited about being painted. They had been discussing, over the next few days after meeting in the art gallery, when they could meet up for Miles to paint Phoenix. The two of them happened to be busy for over a week, Miles helping the Feys with a difficult case—at this point, he was an honorary member in the Fey & Co. Law Offices—and Phoenix was busy writing the manuscript of his latest novel. When the two had finally settled on a date and time, Miles was practically giddy, counting down the days.

Going over to the door, he opened the door, smiling when he saw Phoenix. He was grinning at him, wearing the dark blue suit that Miles had asked him to wear. It was nice to see him after a few days of both of them being too busy to even get a cup of coffee together. Miles was relieved to see him now, opening the door wider as he beckoned him inside. He led him away to his porch in the backyard, which he had readied for painting. The lush greenery in Miles’ garden, which he had gotten help tending to from Mia, was the perfect background for a painting. Phoenix sat down on the stool that Miles had placed, and as he awkwardly adjusted on the seat, he realized that Phoenix had never posed for a painting before.

“Do I pose like this, Mr. Edgeworth? Or like this?”

“Hmmm…” Miles hummed in thought. “Face a little more to the left, Phoenix.”

Phoenix nodded, adjusting on his seat. “Like this?”

“Ah, close. Hold on…”

Miles went over to Phoenix and reached over, taking hold of his arms to adjust him. Though, as he posed him, he realized how…intimately close they were. Phoenix almost leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a shy smile. Phoenix looked handsome, his brown eyes shining with a ferocity that was no doubt Phoenix Wright, his dark blue suit tailored for him. Miles had specifically told him to get a tailored suit, even paying for it no matter how much Phoenix insisted he pay for it on his own. He often wore baggy sweaters and cardigans, and now Miles could see clearly his shoulders and his waist, and if he thought the man was handsome before, well…he was even more handsome now.

“A-Ah, err…” Miles cleared his throat, letting go of Phoenix’s arms. “Stay like this, Phoenix.”

“I’ll try! But I fidget a lot.” Phoenix replied.

“That’s not a problem, Phoenix. Just don’t make any sudden movements.”

“Alright!”

Miles began to paint, starting with an underpainting in a light yellow, to capture the warmth of the morning. The sunlight was warm on his skin as he painted, humming to himself as he applied harsh highlights with a palette knife and soft shadows with a paintbrush. And Phoenix, though fidgeting a few times, was overall a good subject. It wasn’t just his appearance that Miles tried to capture, but his essence, what made him Phoenix Wright. His smile, his shining eyes, his laugh, everything that made him uniquely him. Miles was humming to himself as he painted, a vague melody that the breeze carried along with the song of the birds around them. Though, he then heard the sound of Phoenix’s voice, a curious tone in it.

“Mr. Edgeworth?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you give up art?”

Miles peeked from the canvas, giving Phoenix a strange look. “What?”

“A-Ah…is that too invasive?” Phoenix said, smiling sheepishly. “It’s just…you’ve mentioned that you gave up art when you were a teen. Why is that?”

“Hm…” Miles sighed as he went back to his painting, silent for a moment before he said. “It’s a long story, Phoenix.”

“Well, oil painting takes a long time, doesn’t it? You can tell me now!”

“It’s also a rather depressing story, Phoenix. I can’t have you frowning, I need to paint your smile.”

“Aw man.”

“I’m a little confused why you’re interested in my life.” Miles said with a smile.

“We’ve been friends for a while, but you never told me.” Phoenix said, shrugging. “I guess I just got curious.”

“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.” Miles chuckled when Phoenix pouted. “And you are one rather curious cat.”

“Jerk.” Phoenix murmured, though he couldn’t stop the smile making its way to his face.

Miles painted with a concentrated precision, making sure to place evenevery leaf and flower in the background with purpose. There was something undoubtedly…different from painting a live subject. In pictures, he could only copy, paint what he saw. But with the man he were painting sitting there, smiling as he talked about whatever caught his fancy at that present moment, Miles could capture his energy, his infectious enthusiasm that would have even the coldest hearts thawing at his smile. The two talked away the hours as Miles painted, discussing a wide range of topics that ranged from the mundane to the fascinating to the downright odd, especially as Phoenix had admitted he liked eating cold pizza better than hot pizza. He laughed when Miles had shot him a glare from behind the canvas.

“Are you done, Mr. Edgeworth?” Phoenix asked.

“Almost…” Miles placed a few more highlights on the hair, and he smiled. “Ah, yes. I believe I’m finished.”

“Oooh! Lemme see!” Phoenix leapt out from the chair and ran over, gasping in delight when he saw the painting. “Oh my god, it’s amazing! You should’ve never quit!”

Miles smiled. “Why thank you, Phoenix. Though I will have to let this painting dry first, I’ll give it to you once it’s completely dry.” He placed his art supplies on the table. “In the meantime, do you want pizza? Hot pizza, not cold.”

“Jerk!” Phoenix said with a pout, though he laughed when Miles cracked a smile.

Soon they were inside Miles’ house, eating pizza as they talked and laughed away the hours.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Miles yawned as he took a sip of his tea, smiling as he sat on the chair in his backyard porch.

Like many other mornings, it was a quiet, peaceful one. Pess was currently running around the garden, sniffing everything that she found interesting. The sound of the gentle breeze, of the swaying trees, and the crashing waves of the seas all joined together in a tranquil orchestra. The sunlight was warm on his face, as warm as the tea that he sipped. Lavender tea, a nice gentle floral to start the morning. When Pess had gotten tired, walking up to Miles and jumping at his legs, he smiled and picked her up, carrying her to inside. He really spoiled that dog too much. Though as he placed her in her dog bed, Pess curling up and yawning, Miles remembered his mail. He’d recently subscribed to a few local artists’ newsletters in the town, he should check if there were any new magazines.

It was just as quiet and peaceful, Miles smiling and greeting a few of his neighbors who were walking their dogs or taking a jog through the block. There were was the artist magazine, a few bills and taxes, and letters from his friends back in Los Angeles. Though, he then noticed something odd, a deep navy blue envelope with a bright red seal that he didn’t recognize. Curiously, Miles took it inside with him, placing the rest of the letters and magazines on the coffee table, before he sat down and examined the envelope further. He could see shiny golden ink on it, smiling when he realized that it was from Phoenix, if the “from Phoenix Wright” had anything to say about it. He opened the envelope, which had two light blue letter papers inside, curiously taking it out to read it.

Hi Mr. Edgeworth! :D

I was sitting in the park and I don’t know…I was thinking about you and the forest inspired me. So I wrote you a poem. Hope that’s not too weird XP.

-Phoenix Wright

Miles couldn’t help but smile at that, taking out the other piece of letter paper. Recognizing Phoenix’s messy handwriting, he started reading.

Forest Smile
By: Phoenix Wright

A falling leaf in a summertime dance,
Putting all of those who see in a trance.
Under the foliage you frolic and prance,
Your smile a gift, a lucky chance.

Sunrays filter through, bright, warm.
Butterflies flying in a melodious swarm,
A dancing grace, almost an art form.
Your laugh not even a nightingale can perform.

And with your voice, carried by the breeze,
Swaying along with the towering trees,
As wide and deep as the crashing seas,
Your smile, your laugh, puts me at ease.

Dammit, Phoenix was too damn thoughtful.

Miles’ smile grew wider, thumbing at the light blue letter paper in his hands. The poem…it was beautiful. He could just imagine it, the gentle birdsong, the soft cool forest breeze on his skin, the sunrays filtering through the thick foliage of the trees. Phoenix sitting on a boulder, writing a poem, surrounded by the beauty of nature, and how the warm sunlight would illuminate every beautiful feature of his face. And to think…that he wrote it thinking of Miles when he was writing the poem. Miles could imagine the smile on his face, as warm as the sunlight that shone on him as though he were the spotlight of the entire world. To think, that Phoenix…he cared this much about him.

Later in the day, Miles had went and gotten the poem framed, smiling as he placed it in his office.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Pess barked as she ran through the forests, dragging Miles with her.

She loved the forests of the park, quickly becoming her favorite spot for her to frolic around and smell every smell. Not that Miles minded honestly, the forests were a beautiful place, with Miles making a mental note to take his canvas and paints here one time to paint. He was taking in every sight, well the sights he could see, with Pess pulling on her leash as she ran around in what Maya called “the zoomies”, whatever the hell that meant. Maya and Pearl were always so excited whenever Miles brought Pess over to their offices, and Pess was just as excited. She could finally play with people who matched her energy and enthusiasm. Miles had no idea how she was so lively even now, she wasn’t a puppy anymore.

Birds flew above them, the rustle of their wings flapping joining along with the birdsong and the rustling of the leaves, carried by the cool forest breeze. The forest was cool, shielding them from the rays of the sun. Though, with the coming of summer came storm clouds, it’d been raining a lot more than usual. Miles only hoped that it didn’t rain, looking up at the cloudy skies. Though just as he was looking up at the skies, wondering if it would rain, he was suddenly tugged by Pess, who got excited at something she saw. She began running, dragging Miles along with him. Damn, was it a workout.

“Pess! Slow down!” Miles scolded, sighing when Pess ran around excitedly. “Dear lord, you’re four years old, Pess. How are you so energetic?”

Pess barked at him, Miles sighed again, though he was smiling.

“Mr. Edgeworth?”

Miles turned behind him, smiling when he saw Phoenix. “Ah. Hello, Phoenix. Writer’s block?”

“Yep!” Phoenix nodded, and then he asked. “Pess?”

“Well…” Miles gestured to Pess, who was sniffing at a boulder. “Yes, obviously.”

Phoenix laughed.

The two talked as they walked through the forests, Phoenix laughing and running along with them whenever Pess dragged Miles off to wherever she was going. And Miles had to admit, there was something…intimate about this, the two of them alone in a forest, seeing Phoenix laugh about something that he had found amusing, his melodious violinic laughter ringing in Miles’ ears like the world’s most beautiful symphony. But Miles loved every second he spent with him, every conversation like a gentle water stream that helped their relationship blossom from strangers to friends to…well, Miles didn’t know, but he was ready and willing to let their relationship progress to whatever it would turn into.

Just as Miles was recounting a ridiculous trial from when he was a rookie prosecutor, he felt a raindrop fall on him. And then another, and another, and soon enough rain was descending from the skies. It was raining.

“Shit! It’s raining!” Phoenix cursed, shielding himself from the rain with his arms, and miserably failing. “Ugh! I should’ve brought an umbrella!”

Miles took off his jacket and draped it over Phoenix. “Here?”

“Are you sure, Mr. Edgeworth? What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Miles said, then turning to Pess, who seemed excited at the rain and was currently rolling around in the mud. He sighed. “I just bathed her.”

“Well…dogs love mud!”

“Yes, they do.” Miles looked up at the sky, frowning when he saw how gloomy and thick the gray clouds were. “What do we do? Is there somewhere we can stay?”

“Oh! I know! Follow me, Mr. Edgeworth!”

Phoenix took hold of Miles’ arm and started running, dragging him along and with Pess running after them excitedly. Miles had no idea where he was taking them, but he realized pretty soon when he saw Adreanna’s house soon come into view. They were already soaked by the time they were underneath the front porch of the house, but Miles was more than thankful that they were shielded them from the rain. He overlooked the garden, gravel path surrounding blooming flowerbeds. Hearing the sound of a door opening, Miles turned behind him, seeing that Phoenix had been the one who opened the door.

“Come on inside, we can wait until the rain stops.” Phoenix said.

“Can we?” Miles asked. “This house isn’t ours, Phoenix…”

“It’s fine, Mr. Edgeworth. People come inside here all the time, it’s open for everyone.”

“If you say so…”

The inside of the house was warm and inviting, though clearly renovated it had a vintage charm that exuded personality with every inch. Ornately carved wooden furniture, soft gray fabric on the cushions of chairs and sofas, a polished wooden floor, potted flowering plants that brought a liveliness to the house. Pess immediately ran to the dog bed in the corner that they must’ve kept for the visiting pets, falling asleep. Guess she had gotten tired. Miles chuckled a little, taking a look at everything inside. The small little trinkets that people had collected over the decades, the vintage books that he was sure would fetch a good price in auctions, even examining the carvings on the wooden furniture. There was so much personality in this house, it had left Miles smiling.

What caught Miles’ eye the most though were the paintings hung on the walls, all obviously painted by Adreanna Dallimore herself. Miles walked up to one of the paintings, of a mermaid overlooking the sea, and he admired every brushstroke. There was an expertness in her paintings, a dreamy confidence that artists all over the world could only dream of. He smiled as he imagined Adreanna, painting in her garden, the sea on the canvas and the forest surrounding her. Miles looked up from the painting, stopping and staring at Phoenix, who was taking off his cardigan. That man always wore loose clothes, so seeing him in the shirt he wore underneath that fitted him…Miles didn’t even notice he was staring until he heard Phoenix’s confused voice, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Mr. Edgeworth?”

Oh, right.

“A-Ah…” Miles coughed into his hand. “It’s nothing, Phoenix.”

Phoenix shot him a confused look, though he then shrugged and moved on.

The two of them sat down on the living room sofa, the two of them thankfully not soaking wet anymore, though Miles would be lying if he said that Phoenix with wet hair didn’t look adorable. He eyed the television set, with a wide flat inch TV and framed by two speakers, which all looked rather modern. Honestly, Miles was a bit surprised, he would’ve thought that a TV in such an old building with such a monumental history as this one would have been those cube ones, if they even had a TV in the first place.

“I’m surprised they even have television in here.” Miles said.

“Well, people like spending time here, and TV is a great way to bond with friends.” Phoenix said with a shrug.

Miles hummed. “You have a fair point, Phoenix.”

“Mhmm! People used to hold film nights here, for the community. Though that kinda died down lately. I wonder if I should start hosting them, hm…”

“If you do, I’m an interested party.”

“Sweet!” Phoenix grinned, picking up the remote from the coffee table. “And to kick things off, let’s watch something now! I gotta show you my favorite art film!”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed…” Miles said, chuckling.

The movie began to play, and Phoenix watched the movie in keen interest, like it were the first time he were watching it. It was about the life of one of the artists in Dallimore, one Rosalinda Mangubat, a young girl who fled her home when the Japanese invaded her city in the Philippines. The cinematography was stunning and the soundtrack beautiful, and the story deeply tragic. A young girl forced to leave her home and everything she loved, her mother begging her to leave to start a new life in a foreign country, never to return. Painting became her outlet, as she painted her family in the Philippines, everything she loved about what was her old home and what then became her new home.

Art…it was beautiful, wasn’t it?

“…Manfred von Karma.” Miles murmured.

Phoenix turned to him, confused. “Huh?”

“Manfred von Karma…” Miles sighed. “…He was the reason I gave up art.”  

“What? Really?” Phoenix grew concerned. “Who is he, like an uncle or something?”

“He was my…adoptive father. My father died when I was a teenager, and von Karma, he took me in.” Miles sighed. “He wasn’t an evil man, but…he wasn’t a perfect man, either. That man constantly disapproved of my art, he didn’t see the same potential that my father did. I suppose, under his unsupportive roof…I started to doubt myself, my ability. With how often he called my art ugly…was it really a surprise I gave up?”

“…Oh.” Phoenix frowned. “Mr. Edgeworth, I…that’s horrible! Geez, that’s so-” He burst into tears. “What a horrible man!”

Miles stared in shock as Phoenix sobbed. “Um...Phoenix? Why are you crying? You’ve never even met this man.”

“I-I know! But the thought of you as kid, a-and you never got the support you deserved! It’s…it’s awful!” Phoenix continued to sob. “How dare he! He’s such an…he’s such a horrible person!”

“Um…” Miles gave Phoenix the box of tissues on the coffee table, watching him wipe his tears with the tissue, and then awkwardly asking. “Are you…okay now, Phoenix?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” Phoenix sniffled, wiping his tears before he asked. “So…you gave up art cause he didn’t approve?”

Miles nodded. “There were many reasons…but that was the main reason.” He sighed. “I…was more than prepared to spend the rest of my life as a prosecutor, to ignore my passions. But I…I couldn’t. I decided I needed a fresh start…even though I’m already 30.” He then chuckled. “That’s rather late to start painting again, isn’t it Phoenix?”

“But that doesn’t matter, Mr. Edgeworth! It’s never too late to start creating, you know? You could be 60 and wanna paint…and you still should! Cause you wanna create, and that’s all that matters! I…It’s the whole reason I moved to Dallimore…”

Miles stared at him for a moment. Phoenix hardly ever mentioned it, his life before Dallimore. So, he asked. “What do you mean, Phoenix?”

“I…” Phoenix sighed. “I…had the same problem. Well, with my biological parents. They didn’t believe in me as a writer, they tried forcing me into becoming a doctor, and I…I didn’t want that. I would’ve been a horrible doctor! I mean, have you met me?” He said, laughing when Miles chuckled. “But yeah…they didn’t approve of me wanting to become a writer, and it was suffocating. They kept trying to crush my dreams…”

Phoenix looked like he was about to cry, and Miles wondered, what kind of people his parents were like, and why they wouldn’t ever support their son. Phoenix, who was as remarkable as could be, who lit up the entire world with just his laugh, whose bright enthusiasm could melt even the coldest of hearts, whose eyes shone with a determination like Miles had never seen in anyone ever before.

“…When I got into college, I enrolled into the creative writing course, not the premed course. They were pissed, and we had a big fight over it…I moved out the next day, I haven’t talked to them since. I came here to Dallimore, since I couldn’t pay for tuition on my own. And well…I’ve been writing ever since, without my parents…” Phoenix sighed. “It hurt, cause they weren’t horrible people. I loved them, even if they hurt me. It’s just…I can’t live with people who don’t believe in me, you know?”

“Oh, Phoenix…” Miles gave him a sympathetic look. “But you’re a talented writer.”

“Thanks! And you’re a great artist too!” Phoenix said.

Miles chuckled. “I’d be better if I didn’t give up as a child.”

“Oh, that doesn’t really matter, does it?” Phoenix smiled, putting his hand over Miles’. “I mean, to create! That’s what makes us human…isn’t it, Miles?”

That was the exact thing Vera said, the exact thing that changed the trajectory of Miles’ life. And in that same gentle voice, soft and yet as powerful as a lion’s roar, even more so. Miles’ name sounded divine in his voice, as though he were an angel whispering holy encouragements in his ear, showing him all that was beautiful about the world. And those eyes, as dark as obsidian’s, and just as resilient. It seemed that the night stars sparkled in them, singing along with the nightingales and the crickets. His smile was a symphony that Miles wanted to memorize for the rest of his life. A smiling symphony he grew to love-

Love?

Love…

Yes, he loved this man, who was smiling at him, a smile as sweet as a juicy mango, as gentle as the sea foam of the ocean waves, as resilient as a moss covered boulder.

“Phoenix…”

“Ah, um…sorry for calling you that. Weird, huh?”

Miles chuckled. “Quite the contrary, Phoenix. I think…we’re close enough for you to call me my first name.”

“Oh, thank god!” Phoenix grinned. “Mr. Edgeworth is a mouthful.”

“Well…you were the one who called me that, not me.” Miles countered.

Phoenix pouted. “Jerk!”

Miles chuckled.

A few hours had passed when the rain had died down, the sun already starting to dip over the horizon. The two, along with Pess who Miles had woken up, walked through the forests and back in the town. And when Miles reached out to hold Phoenix’s hand, his heart soared when Phoenix interlocked his fingers in his.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Miles squinted his eyes, concentrating as he brushed a wash of blue watercolor paint on his watercolor pad.

Sometimes, whenever he had no idea what to do, he would just take out his favorite watercolor sketchpad and start drawing, letting the pencil and watercolor paints take control. His sketchbooks were hardly the organized aesthetic drawings that he saw all over Instagram, but he found he didn’t mind, they were called sketchbooks for a reason. His watercolor sketchpad was full of doodles, some painted and some unpainted, a range of topics from nature to town streets to portraits of people he painted sitting on the benches of the streets. Honestly, something was relaxing about watercolor paints, even if waiting for the watercolor to dry before he could move on to the next step was a pain.

Earlier that morning Miles had sat in one of Diego’s trials, and though that man was as cocky and eccentric as could be, he couldn’t deny that he was a damn good lawyer. With Maya as his co-counsel—Mia was busy investigating another case—Diego had won the case, and he treated her and Miles to burgers for lunch. When Miles had gotten back, having not bought canvases for his new paintings and too tired to go out to the store to buy any, he had taken out his watercolor sketchpad and…started sketching. Before he knew it, he was sketching a man, taking his kneaded eraser and lightening the graphite before he started painting.

Though as he was applying the underwash of yellow ochre, he noticed how…familiar this man looked.

It was Phoenix.

Miles looked at the rest of the doodles, and he just stared as he realized that they were all of him. Full bodies, busts, above his waist, his sketchpad was just filled with sketches of him. Phoenix frowning, Phoenix smiling, Phoenix crying, Phoenix laughing. The very same dark eyes and spiky hair that Miles had become intimately familiar with as he spent more and more months in Dallimore, getting to know the man he had met that one afternoon. Miles hadn’t even noticed, mindlessly doing whatever was on his mind…and apparently, what was on his mind was none other than Phoenix Wright himself.

Honestly…that wasn’t too inaccurate.

Romance was simply something Miles had never been interested in, too busy with work to ever even entertain the thought, rejecting every man and woman who made a move on him. Sure, there had been men he thought looked good, crushes that came and went, but they’d just been that, brief attractions and infatuations. But Phoenix…Miles got to know him, all of his flaws like how much he ran his mouth and how he’d burst out crying at the stupidest things, and all of his strengths like his thoughtfulness and his determination, and Miles had fallen in love with them all. His pouts and his grins, his cackles and his sobs, every single facet of this shining seaside onyx that had crashed his way into his life.

Before Miles knew it, he had gotten up—his watercolor needed to dry anyways—and he was staring at the poem that Phoenix had written for him. Sometimes, Miles liked to read it, imagined him surrounded by towering trees and singing birds, writing away on his notebook. The handwriting on the framed letter paper was messy, though something about that was ever so charming, like everything about Phoenix, leaving him smiling just at the thought of the young writer that he had befriended and fallen in love with.

Soon Miles was back at his desk, humming a melody as he painted away. And the drawing of Phoenix that he painted was smiling back.

━━━━ ❰ ･ ❉ ･ ❱ ━━━━

Miles took a sip of his tea, watching the sun dip under the horizon from his porch.

The sunset sky was all kind of colors, warm hues of red and pink and orange making way for the darker hues of purple and blue, stars making their first greetings as they twinkled in the sky. Miles smiled and leaned back as he took another sip of his tea, listening to the leaves rustling in the wind and the gentle crashing of the ocean waves, paired perfectly with the subtle sweet taste of his chamomile tea. Dallimore was such a…beautiful town, nature surrounding them and with a slow peaceful tranquility. The evening was quiet, Miles could simply watch the stars in the sky, the warm setting sunrays that bathed everything in a golden light, letting the hours pass by as he simply…thought, about everything that had happened over the past few months he’d been living in the town.

It was surreal to think, that Miles had been living in Dallimore for months, it felt like only yesterday when he’d just moved in with just him and Pess, when he had met the Feys when Maya ran up to him excitedly, when Phoenix had approached him to ask what he was drawing. Time flew, didn’t it? And honestly, Miles wouldn’t have it any other way. There was something…comforting about this place, felt like the home he hadn’t felt since his father had died, nurturing his love for art and all things human that his father used to do. And of course, the quiet evenings like this one, where Miles wasn’t worried about mountains of cases and trials like in Los Angeles, and he could let the hours pass by without any worries.

“MIIIIILES!” Phoenix’s voice came from the front door. “MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILES! OPEN THE DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!”

Well, so much for a quiet evening.

Miles went inside and to the front door, opening it and seeing Phoenix, who was grinning and wearing a star patterned sweater. “Ah, Phoenix. Why are you here?”

“C’mon Miles! The festival des étoiles de nuit is about to start!” Phoenix urged.

“Um…” Miles stared at him. “The what?”

Phoenix stared at him like he were stupid. “The Night Star Festival! That is its name in French. The Night Star Festival commemorates Adreanna’s first painting, the Night Star.”

“…There’s an entire festival just for a painting?” Miles questioned, a brow raised.

“It’s not just about the painting!” Phoenix said with a groan. “It’s about the community, Miles! I mean, you can’t just stay cooped up in your house 24/7, can you?”

“I suppose not…” Miles hummed in thought. “Is there food?”

Phoenix grinned at that. “Lots of food!”

“…Can I bring Pess?”

“Of course! Pets can come, duh! Larry is bringing his cat.”

“I see. Well, let me get changed first…”

“Yay!”

It seemed the town square was packed, filled to the brim with stalls that sold food and souvenirs, with each stall having at least three people buying from them. Bunting and fairy lights were strung above them, illuminating the streets and town square in a warm and inviting glow. Miles would’ve been overstimulated, but the smile on Phoenix’s face as he dragged him away to the stalls calmed him down, and Pess was excited to see all of the people around her and all of the food she could smell. They stopped at every stall, Miles buying a crocheted dog keychains that vaguely resembled Pess—he glared at Phoenix when he called him obsessed with his dog—and a handpainted ceramic mug for himself, and two sticks of strawberry tanghulu for the two of them, who looked adorable as he ate the strawberries.

At some point they saw the Feys, Maya excitedly grinning at them and inviting them over. Maya had a relentless bottomless pit for a stomach, begging Mia and Diego, and even Phoenix and Miles, to buy her food. At some point Mia had sighed and gotten Maya a big bag of popcorn to shut her up. It was getting a little tiring, though Miles tried to make sure that they wouldn’t notice his social battery being low. Though, Phoenix seemed to notice, telling the Feys that he wanted to visit the beach with Miles. Maya offered to handle Pess for a little when Miles had mentioned not wanting her to get wet, though he suspected that she and Pearl just wanted to dress Pess up with the pet accessories and clothes stall they had seen earlier. Soon enough though, they were walking through the shores of the beach.

“Sorry for dragging you away, Miles.” Phoenix said as they walked. “I just noticed that you were getting…tired.”

“And I thank you for that, Phoenix. I’m afraid my social battery is…quick to drain.” Miles said.

“No, I get that. Iris, she’s Pearl’s sister living in another city and she visits sometimes, she’s an introvert too. So really, it’s fine!” Phoenix replied.

“Ah, I see.” Miles said, then adding. “Though, my legs are getting rather tired…shall we sit somewhere?”

“Sure!” Phoenix pointed to a few boulders near the shores of the sea. “There! I love sitting there.”

As soon as they were there, Miles immediately sat down on one of the boulders, the closest one to the water. Phoenix shot him a strange look.

“Are you sure you wanna sit there, Miles? You might get splashed with water.” He said.

“I assure you Phoenix, I’ll be fine.” Miles reassured.

Phoenix shrugged. “If you say so.”

The two stared up at the night sky, stars glittering in the night sky, little sparkles all throughout the dark velvet of the skies. Miles smiled at the sound of palm trees swaying and crashing waves, the brisk ocean breeze against his skin. His eyes flickered to Phoenix, who looked beautiful in the moonlight, silver rays highlighting every handsome feature of his face. To think, there was a time in Miles’ life when he didn’t know Phoenix, the Feys, Dallimore. When he lived in Los Angeles, miserable because he didn’t let himself breathe, enjoy his life and let his passion for art blossom like he wanted it to. But he was here now, wasn’t he? Wasn’t that the only thing that mattered at the end of the day?

“…I’m glad I moved here, Phoenix.” Miles said, adding at Phoenix’s confused face. “Back in Los Angeles…I was too busy, with work and my misery, to make the most of my life. It was frantic, moved far too fast for me. That life, the life of constant movement, it wasn’t for me. It’s here, in Dallimore with you and the Feys…that’s the life for me.”

“I am too, Miles.” Phoenix replied, placing his hand over Miles’, warm against his own. “I’m so glad you moved here.”

Miles leaned in, and before he knew it, his and Phoenix’s lips met. Phoenix tasted like the sweet and fresh strawberry tanghulu he had eaten a few minutes ago. Their kiss was gentle, as gentle as the moonlight that illuminated them, the languid waves that crashed into the sands of the shore, the smell of gentle lavender on a summer morning. Miles had kissed before of course, but his kiss with Phoenix was one he knew he’d remember for the rest of his life. He could never forget those warm lips against his, the hands gripping at his shoulder, the way the whole world seemed to fade away, just the two of them. And as they separated, Phoenix’s eyes beautifully shining in the silver moonlight, Miles realized that with passion…came love.

“You…you mean a lot to me, Phoenix.” Miles murmured against Phoenix’s lips. “I would dare call it…love.”

“Miles, I…I love you too!” Phoenix said.

“Oh, Phoenix. I-” Miles yelped as a particularly large wave suddenly crashed into him, soaking him wet. “What in the hell?!”

Phoenix snickered. “See! I told you you’d get wet!”

Miles glared at Phoenix, and then smirked. “Well, I don’t have to be the only one who’s wet.”

“What are you talking about? I- GAAH!”

Phoenix yelped as Miles suddenly dragged him into the waters with him, with Phoenix glaring at Miles once they surfaced. They laughed as they played in the water, uncaring that their nice clothes was soaked with seawater. By the time they were done playing, both of them adding through the water, Miles had never been happier that he’d been unexpectedly soaked. Yes, happy with Phoenix here next to him, a love that unlike paints, would never fade no matter what.

“Oh, Phoenix…” Miles trailed off.

“Let’s go out sometime! A date!” Phoenix blurted out.

Miles smiled back. “I’d love that.”

“Great! Let’s talk details!” Phoenix said.

“Yes, but let’s go back to the festival. I’m sure the Feys are worried about us.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

The two made the trek back to the town, thankfully not dripping wet anymore, though the ocean breeze on their wet skin was cold. They soon found the Feys and Pess, and just as Miles expected, Pess was wearing little heart-shaped sunglasses. Not that Miles minded, she looked adorable.

“Geez! What the heck happened to you guys? Why are you soaked?” Maya asked.

Phoenix and Miles looked at each other, and they laughed, much to the confusion of the Feys. Pess, excited by their energy, barked happily.

The night carried on, Miles letting Pess lead him to wherever she wanted to go, the Feys and Phoenix talking as they followed him, their tones light and filled with camaraderie, just as bright as the fairy lights strung above them that lit up the town square in a gentle warm glow. Pess was busy sniffing the butt of a borzoi she had met, Maya and Pearl talking with his owners.

Miles felt a hand interlock with his, seeing that it was Phoenix, who was smiling at him gently.

This little town called Dallimore, that Miles now called home…it was everything that Miles could have hoped for. Serenity, passion, friendship.

Love.

And so, he smiled back.