idk
It was early; he knew it was early because he always noticed the time most in the mornings. When he'd just woken up, when he'd just gotten dressed, when he'd just fixed his tousled hair. His eyes lingered for a moment longer on that dreaded cell phone-- no, he won't call him. He has no reason to call him.
And now he could feel his eyes on him as he slipped his coat on and ruefully shoved the phone into his pocket. Now he could feel the guilt that only he was capable of giving him, now he could hear the whine, feel the fingers tugging at his clothes, feel the soft breath against his ear, see flashes of skin on skin and now he found that he missed him.
He wouldn't be manipulated by imaginary thoughts, imaginary moments, he won't be seduced by silk memories slipping through his mind eye. He is better than this. He is Miles Edgeworth; the once named Demon Prosecutor.
And yet, he knew, in the back of his mind, that he would be ringing him later on.
And now he could feel his eyes on him as he slipped his coat on and ruefully shoved the phone into his pocket. Now he could feel the guilt that only he was capable of giving him, now he could hear the whine, feel the fingers tugging at his clothes, feel the soft breath against his ear, see flashes of skin on skin and now he found that he missed him.
He wouldn't be manipulated by imaginary thoughts, imaginary moments, he won't be seduced by silk memories slipping through his mind eye. He is better than this. He is Miles Edgeworth; the once named Demon Prosecutor.
And yet, he knew, in the back of his mind, that he would be ringing him later on.