22

[takethat]

[Thanks to Larry not knowing how to operate a stepladder correctly, Phoenix is currently laid up in bed, blue cast on his right leg, and an endless stream of whining ever at the ready.

He's also incredibly bored. Painting and drawing got old long ago, and he can't seem to stay focused on anything he tries to read. Never mind that he could probably pretty easily get out of bed and actually do something despite his (not very severely) broken leg...

He whines, over-dramatic, into the journal.]

Don't trust Larry Butz, everybody... he'll just break your bones and make you miserable...

...on a related note, come and sign my cast.

[With a bit of apprehension, he adds a filter.]



Um... Trucy? ...mind keeping your uh... old man... company for a little while?

[Good lord but he feels ridiculous even asking this of a teenager he's only just recently met.]

Comments

[cantacquityou]

Be a painter rather than a lawyer, more than likely.

[takethat]

Or be poisoned to death.

[cantacquityou]

You know, I had a bit of a similar experience, now that I think on it...

[takethat]

What do you mean?

[cantacquityou]

I, too, had a ...lover [The word doesn't seem to sit very well with him since it was nothing like the relationship that he shares with Phoenix.] ...who initially presented himself to be the total opposite of what he truly was.

[takethat]

[He's not really cool with one of those other men being called Edgeworth's "lover," either--particularly not after how hard he himself had to work for that label. He scowls.]

...well, what ended up happening?

[cantacquityou]

Well, at the very least he wasn't out to murder me... At least, I hope...

[takethat]

I thought I was your lover.

[cantacquityou]

Correction. You are my lover.


I just could not think of a better word to describe him.

[takethat]

I'd never call Dahlia my lover... my demonic ex-girlfriend, maybe...

[cantacquityou]

He wasn't my boyfriend, either.

[takethat]

[He visibly droops.]

This is kind of just making me feel worse.

[cantacquityou]

...that I felt nothing even close to them as I feel for you?

[takethat]

Can't you call them something else? Otherwise I feel like you just think of me as disposable like they were.

[cantacquityou]

Oh, Phoenix, you could never truly think that...

[takethat]

I can be concerned, can't I?

...and also really mad at all of them for hurting you? Can I just hate them for every reason?

[cantacquityou]

I cannot say the same for them all. But you are welcome to feel however you'd like.

[takethat]

...suddenly, my stomach hurts...

[cantacquityou]

What I meant to say is that not all of them had hurt me as much you may have thought...

Perhaps a time or two, it may have been the other way around.

[takethat]

[He shakes his head against the pillow and tries to wriggle free of Edgeworth's hold on him.]

I don't want to think about this. I don't want to think about sharing you.

[Stubborn boy.]

[cantacquityou]

You are not sharing me.

[takethat]

I don't even want to share you with memories and it's not fair.

[cantacquityou]

What is not fair, and utterly unrealistic, is for you to expect someone, as adults no less, to have not had any sort of relationships before you...

...Not to mention, my experiences are extremely minimal in comparison to most others.

[takethat]

[He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "you don't understand" into his pillow, but even so, he seems to relax a little at Edgeworth's usual sense of logic.]







...I just don't like hearing you talk about them. Either I feel like they meant something to you or I feel like they didn't, and either way I don't want to think about you having sex with them...

[cantacquityou]

Then I'll simply refrain from speaking of them.