[Even in the best of circumstances, Miles Edgeworth is a difficult man to read, and Phoenix is having a time of it now. Where he himself is almost painfully obvious, Edgeworth's words and actions all seem to Phoenix to be carefully selected so as not to give away his position on any of the real, underlying issue--if it can even be called an "issue"--behind their meeting. Then again, he supposes it could just be that this is a matter of emotion... apparently the only matter with which Edgeworth is unskilled.
As Phoenix looks at Edgeworth, vaguely smiling there still in the grass, longing spreads rapidly through his bones and blood and skin; it aches dully in the pit of his stomach, in his arms, in his throat where his pulse is beating rapidly despite his outer presentation of calmness. Rather than something lustful and physical, in actuality it's a simple need for some kind of sign or spoken word that his deep and terrible fondness for this man isn't going to end in destruction. It's been a long time since he's felt this strongly about someone else, and whether he admits it to himself or not, he's been burned. It's the scar tissue left from that burn (and the scabs of more recent cuts) that keep him from acting on the desperate want to soak in as much of Miles Edgeworth as humanly possible.
And it's all hidden behind the best poker face he can muster. It's still in-training and not nearly the mask he might unknowingly garner some years down the road, but it's a start. Only his prominent blush and sweaty palms belie the truth that he's no longer afraid of mentally admitting.]
So... can I ask what made you finally decide to get in touch with me again?
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chiming
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Date: 2012-07-24 11:14 pm (UTC)From:[Even in the best of circumstances, Miles Edgeworth is a difficult man to read, and Phoenix is having a time of it now. Where he himself is almost painfully obvious, Edgeworth's words and actions all seem to Phoenix to be carefully selected so as not to give away his position on any of the real, underlying issue--if it can even be called an "issue"--behind their meeting. Then again, he supposes it could just be that this is a matter of emotion... apparently the only matter with which Edgeworth is unskilled.
As Phoenix looks at Edgeworth, vaguely smiling there still in the grass, longing spreads rapidly through his bones and blood and skin; it aches dully in the pit of his stomach, in his arms, in his throat where his pulse is beating rapidly despite his outer presentation of calmness. Rather than something lustful and physical, in actuality it's a simple need for some kind of sign or spoken word that his deep and terrible fondness for this man isn't going to end in destruction. It's been a long time since he's felt this strongly about someone else, and whether he admits it to himself or not, he's been burned. It's the scar tissue left from that burn (and the scabs of more recent cuts) that keep him from acting on the desperate want to soak in as much of Miles Edgeworth as humanly possible.
And it's all hidden behind the best poker face he can muster. It's still in-training and not nearly the mask he might unknowingly garner some years down the road, but it's a start. Only his prominent blush and sweaty palms belie the truth that he's no longer afraid of mentally admitting.]
So... can I ask what made you finally decide to get in touch with me again?