[The slightest, strangled little noise erupts from his mouth before he can stop it, and he clenches his teeth to keep it from happening again. Bad enough he's crying on the other side of that journal; Edgeworth doesn't need to know it.
And he doesn't know what he should do. Every figurative step he takes toward Edgeworth hurts, but he's never let those stings and bruises stop him in the past; why is it that he's considering doing so now?
Isn't that the right thing to do, though? Edgeworth's happiness is the most important matter to consider here; if Phoenix can do nothing else for him--if he can't hold him and dote on him and spend all his time with him like he'd like to--then at least he can be sure that his parting decision makes Edgeworth happy. Although the mixed messages ("I can't stand being with you," wasn't it, just some weeks before all this mess of "I like having you around"?) are making it impossible to tell what he really should do.
And so, he makes no decision. He just sits there, wishing Edgeworth would just materialize and hug him again like he did that night in the bar; he sits silently except for his pained outcry and perhaps a few shaky breaths, biting his lip as hard as he can to try to stop the tears from falling.
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chiming
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Date: 2012-06-13 05:15 am (UTC)From:And he doesn't know what he should do. Every figurative step he takes toward Edgeworth hurts, but he's never let those stings and bruises stop him in the past; why is it that he's considering doing so now?
Isn't that the right thing to do, though? Edgeworth's happiness is the most important matter to consider here; if Phoenix can do nothing else for him--if he can't hold him and dote on him and spend all his time with him like he'd like to--then at least he can be sure that his parting decision makes Edgeworth happy. Although the mixed messages ("I can't stand being with you," wasn't it, just some weeks before all this mess of "I like having you around"?) are making it impossible to tell what he really should do.
And so, he makes no decision. He just sits there, wishing Edgeworth would just materialize and hug him again like he did that night in the bar; he sits silently except for his pained outcry and perhaps a few shaky breaths, biting his lip as hard as he can to try to stop the tears from falling.
It seems to be "all over," after all.]