samuraiprosecutor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
samuraiprosecutor) wrote2008-06-01 08:45 pm
samuraiprosecutor) wrote2008-06-01 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
[RL 19: He Was Right; Edgeworth only][Backdated]
((Taking place at around 10:00pm on the evening of 5-28-08, Paris time (around 1pm 5-28-08 comm time) - about 15 hours after this fight that resulted from the Alignment Virus.))
The café was busy; he'd opted to eat on the patio, which was less occupied thanks to the slight chill of the night. Throughout his dinner his eyes traced the movements of the crowds filling the sidewalks, while his mind traced the same words, over and over.
The food hadn't seemed up to the brasserie's usual standards. Edgeworth pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and dug out a few bills - enough to cover the meal and a marginal tip - with a quick, calculated movement and dropped them on the table, almost stood to leave-
He settled back into the steel bistro chair, his eyes fixed on the hint of color laying innocuously in his wallet. It was a recent addition, still crisp; he pulled the photo out slowly and studied it for a drawn-out moment. The edges were lined in a thin, white fray, the result of being cut to size. It was already bowed slightly but otherwise intact, vibrant as the day it was taken. Familiar faces captured in a joyful tableau: Larry, a ridiculous expression on his face; Detective Gumshoe, flinging confetti as if they'd just won some sports event or other; Maya, holding a banner that seemed so presumptuous only minutes prior and wearing a grin that was almost infectious. And Wright...
Miles' gaze softened the longer he stared. The addition of the photo had been a whim, a moment of inexcusable sentimentalism...a mistake. One of far too many impulses indulged, moments that left him vulnerable, too open to people and all the frustrations and pain that they bring.
Wright's words were true. They...hurt, so much more than he would admit. If the source had been different, if it wasn't Wright who said them...
Brows furrowed, Edgeworth slid the photo back into his wallet. A reminder, still, though what it was meant to remind him of had changed. He saw what was necessary now, realized how badly he'd slipped. The lapse would be corrected, as all mistakes should be, where possible.
Edgeworth glanced up into a startling pair of blue eyes. Something seemed to flutter in his chest, panicked, before the rest of the man's face came into focus: a strong jaw, sharp nose, high cheekbones. He wore the casually chic style typical of the more successful artists in the area, and appeared to be the only diner at the table across from his.
He'd been watching Edgeworth. Upon being caught, instead of looking away in embarrassment he continued to stare, with a mildly interested quirk to one thin brow. Edgeworth flashed him a glare. The man's eyes widened in response; the slight smile that had turned up the corners of his lips fell away, but he continued to hold Edgeworth's gaze for a long time after.
When the man nodded politely at him and finally returned his attention to the colorful magazine in his left hand, Edgeworth rose immediately from his table and left.
The café was busy; he'd opted to eat on the patio, which was less occupied thanks to the slight chill of the night. Throughout his dinner his eyes traced the movements of the crowds filling the sidewalks, while his mind traced the same words, over and over.
The food hadn't seemed up to the brasserie's usual standards. Edgeworth pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket and dug out a few bills - enough to cover the meal and a marginal tip - with a quick, calculated movement and dropped them on the table, almost stood to leave-
He settled back into the steel bistro chair, his eyes fixed on the hint of color laying innocuously in his wallet. It was a recent addition, still crisp; he pulled the photo out slowly and studied it for a drawn-out moment. The edges were lined in a thin, white fray, the result of being cut to size. It was already bowed slightly but otherwise intact, vibrant as the day it was taken. Familiar faces captured in a joyful tableau: Larry, a ridiculous expression on his face; Detective Gumshoe, flinging confetti as if they'd just won some sports event or other; Maya, holding a banner that seemed so presumptuous only minutes prior and wearing a grin that was almost infectious. And Wright...
Miles' gaze softened the longer he stared. The addition of the photo had been a whim, a moment of inexcusable sentimentalism...a mistake. One of far too many impulses indulged, moments that left him vulnerable, too open to people and all the frustrations and pain that they bring.
Wright's words were true. They...hurt, so much more than he would admit. If the source had been different, if it wasn't Wright who said them...
Brows furrowed, Edgeworth slid the photo back into his wallet. A reminder, still, though what it was meant to remind him of had changed. He saw what was necessary now, realized how badly he'd slipped. The lapse would be corrected, as all mistakes should be, where possible.
Edgeworth glanced up into a startling pair of blue eyes. Something seemed to flutter in his chest, panicked, before the rest of the man's face came into focus: a strong jaw, sharp nose, high cheekbones. He wore the casually chic style typical of the more successful artists in the area, and appeared to be the only diner at the table across from his.
He'd been watching Edgeworth. Upon being caught, instead of looking away in embarrassment he continued to stare, with a mildly interested quirk to one thin brow. Edgeworth flashed him a glare. The man's eyes widened in response; the slight smile that had turned up the corners of his lips fell away, but he continued to hold Edgeworth's gaze for a long time after.
When the man nodded politely at him and finally returned his attention to the colorful magazine in his left hand, Edgeworth rose immediately from his table and left.
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IT'LL MAKE ME SEND TEN TO PARIS SOONER.
Speaking of, I may have found a way to get round the alien and other world issue without destroying parts of Edgey's Paris. :3 That's if you're still up for an RL sometime, of course.
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By the way, absent Edgey makes Bourne sadface.
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That help?
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And there was much rejoicing.
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