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Edgeworth hated being stuck in bed. There was so much work to do and such little time to complete it, he couldn’t afford to be laying here binge-watching Steel Samurai movies on the grand TV in the corner of his room. Alas, he had no say in the matter, doctors orders.
He drew his eyes away from the screen to focus on the ugly white cast covering his right ankle, propped up on a pile of red cushions as if it were some sort of delicate object on display. The reminder of his injury caused him to scowl. He had just finished visiting a crime scene with Gumshoe. They’d been working all day, taking only a couple of short breaks, and consequently Edgeworth was exhausted. As they left the area, his mind began to wander away from the detectives' seemingly never ending chatter and he completely missed a step, causing his ankle to roll over with a snap. Edgeworth couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced a pain so horrific that it brought tears to his eyes and pushed a loud profanity out of his throat yet despite Gumshoe’s concern, he refused to accept help. There was no way he would show weakness in public with police officers all around, his show of uncharacteristic clumsiness was embarrassing enough. Unfortunately, continuing to walk was a decision he now deeply regretted as it only escalated the severity of the injury.
Gumshoe took him to the hospital, breaking the speed limit multiple times to dodge red lights, where Edgeworth discovered he had severely fractured the bone and had only made it worse by putting more pressure on his foot.
“You’ll need to keep it in a cast for at least 6-8 weeks, possibly more.” The doctor told him. “You’ll also need to avoid applying too much pressure. I’d recommend resting it for at least a week.”
Those words still stung in his mind. Even though he tried to protest, the doctor, and even Gumshoe, was persistent. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been bedridden. It was probably when he caught the common cold as a child whenever it swept through the school during winter. Honestly, at the moment he felt like a child, especially since Phoenix was always checking up on him. When he found out about Edgeworth’s ankle he was in a lot of distress. He’d tried to reassure him that it was nothing to worry about and that he could take care of himself but Phoenix went ahead and booked the week off anyways to take care of him.
“Don’t you have a trial tomorrow? You should be preparing for that, not fussing over me!” Edgeworth had argued.
“Don’t worry, Apollo and Athena said they could handle it from here and Trucy is taking care of the office. I’m sure they’ll be fine.” Phoenix had a comforting smile on his face the entire time he spoke but Edgeworth didn’t fancy the idea of a bunch of young adults working without supervision for an entire week.
As his boyfriend had crossed his mind there was a knock at his door. “Come in.” He called out for the sixth time that day, it was only 1pm.
The metal handle moved awkwardly and then clicked before Phoenix pushed it open. As usual, in one hand there was a fresh cup of tea but tucked under his other arm was a large box. “Hey Miles, how are you?” He asked, moving the empty cup on the bedside table and replacing it with the new one. From the aroma Edgeworth could tell it was a simple earl grey, again.
“It’s only been an hour since you last checked on me, Phoenix, nothing has changed.” Edgeworth responded with a huff.
Phoenix leant down, putting a warm hand to his boyfriend's cheek. Edgeworth couldn’t resist leaning into the touch. “Are you at least feeling a bit happier now that you’ve got the Steel Samurai on?” He pressed.
Edgeworth pondered on an answer for a moment, avoiding Phoenix’s heterochromatic gaze as he could feel his pale cheeks heating up, then let out a sigh. “I suppose I am.” He mumbled. “Thank you for that.”
Phoenix grinned. “You’re welcome, love.” He pressed a kiss to Edgeworth’s cheek.
Once Phoenix pulled away he finally placed the mysterious box onto the bed. It was wooden and had certainly been neglected for a few years, evident by the dust which had been briefly wiped away. Edgeworth also noted the splashes of dried paint dotting the corners. “What’s in the box?” He asked, looking up at his boyfriend with interest.
“Well…” Phoenix sat down and brought the box onto his lap, flicking up the latch and raising the lid. Inside were several paint tubes, brushes of varying sizes and a wooden palette which was permanently stained with colour. “Ever since you had the cast put on you’ve been complaining about how ‘ugly’ it is and since you’ll eventually be going back to the office with it I thought maybe I could put my art degree to use and paint it for you?” He offered with a hopeful smile.
Edgeworth raised an eyebrow at him. This could go one of two ways. Either Phoenix messed the painting up and his cast would be even more of an eye-sore or he would be pleasantly surprised. “When was the last time you painted something?” He inquired.
Phoenix tapped his chin. “Um… I think it was…” the way his gaze drifted away in thought made Edgeworth even more reluctant to accept his offer. “Does finger painting with Trucy when she was younger count?”
Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “No, it does not. Phoenix, I appreciate that you want to make me feel better but what if it doesn’t come out the way you expected?”
Phoenix pouted. “Oh come on, Miles. Painting is like riding a bike, you never truly forget how to do it.”
“It’s nothing like riding a bike.” He objected.
“How would you know? You’ve never painted, or rode a bike!” Phoenix pointed out.
“Still, my point stands.” Edgeworth rolled his eyes at Phoenix’s stubbornness.
“I’ll make sure it’s not too detailed then. Love, please let me do this for you, I know you’ll feel more confident about yourself if I get it right.” Phoenix put his hand on top of Edgeworth’s. His gaze was gentle but Edgeworth could tell from the way his eyebrows curved he was desperate to do this.
Even though he’d grown to resist those eyes over the many years they’d been together, today he couldn’t. “Alright then,” he began with a sigh, allowing Phoenix’s fingers to slip between his own, “you can paint it.”
Phoenix grinned, bringing his boyfriend's hand up to press a sweet kiss on the knuckle. “Thanks Miles!” He eagerly picked up the box and moved to the other side of the bed so he had more room and wasn’t obstructing Edgeworth view of the TV. “Any requests?”
Edgeworth shook his head. “I’m sure you’re capable of coming up with a design that would suit me.” He flashed him a small smile but his expression quickly turned serious. “Oh, and if you get any paint on these fresh sheets you will be in charge of cleaning them, or buying new ones if they’re permanently stained.” He’d only just managed to scrub the coffee stain Phoenix had left on the pale grey sheets after tripping over his own slippers which had cleverly been dumped down the side of the bed. If it wasn’t for him, this apartment would be in disarray.
Phoenix briefly rolled his eyes. “I’ll be as careful as I possibly can be.” He promised, a light chuckle in his voice.
Edgeworth watched closely as his boyfriend sat on his knees, tapping a paintbrush to his chin as his gaze flicked between the blank cast, the TV and the rest of the room, seemingly searching for inspiration. His eyes suddenly lit up as an idea came to mind. Phoenix picked up a red paint tube and unscrewed the cap with more difficulty than expected. Underneath, the top of the tube was covered in crusty paint. Edgeworth didn’t know much about art and frankly didn’t care for the hobby yet seeing the paint in such a state even made him visibly cringe. “When did you buy these?” He asked.
“Probably the start of college, which was around 15 years ago…” Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He gave the tube a gentle squeeze and somehow bright red paint broke through the thick layer of dry paint. “It should still work though!”
He squeezed out dollops of red, white, green and brown paint onto the palette. Then, taking one of the brushes, he began to mix the paint around. After being neglected for so many years the bristles had hardened, making an unpleasant scratchy sound on the wood as Phoenix moved them in a circular motion. The red and white became a wide spectrum of pinks and by mixing red with brown a darker red was produced. Edgeworth tried to figure out what Phoenix was wanting to paint from the colours he was using; probably just some hearts since he vowed to keep it simple. He eventually picked up another brush, dipped into the red and, with visible hesitation, began to paint. Edgeworth was expecting him to at least start with a sketch, the lack of a plan left him even more anxious.
He leaned over to pick up his tea, holding in his hands and sipping occasionally as he decided to choose watching the movie over Phoenix’s unusual process. He’d seen it all before, obviously, and although he could remember almost every line off by heart he’d never be sick of the gripping storyline and high-action scenes. In a sense, it was nice knowing the outcome of the film so he was at ease whenever one of the main characters was in danger.
A considerable amount of time had passed before Edgeworth decided to check up on Phoenix. His boyfriend’s eyes were completely focused on the paintbrush’s movements, biting his lip to maintain that level of concentration. It was the same look he made in court whenever he tried to form conclusions from the evidence presented. Edgeworth supposed this was still a life or death situation for his boyfriend. His slightly tan fingers were covered in red and pink paint and Edgeworth noticed there was even a streak of green on his cheek. As for the cast itself, it was hard to see exactly what had been painted. From where his eyes were at the top of the bed it just looked like a mush of red with some green around the edges. “How is it coming along?” He decided to ask.
Phoenix lifted his head and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know that It’s not a complete disaster.” He wiped his forehead, leaving more paint marks on his skin. “I think I'm almost finished.” He turned back to face the cast, adding a little bit more pink around the edges and some darker red at the bottom, then after a moment of thought he nodded. “Yep, I’m done!”
Edgeworth carefully pushed himself up to inspect his work. Painted just above where the cast curved around to the foot was a red rose surrounded by leaves. The petals were dark red with pink highlights towards the top and darker reds had been used to shade anything hidden by the light source. Although the design was upside down for him, Edgeworth was astounded by what Phoenix had managed to do after years without practice.
“Do you like it?” Phoenix asked, shuffling off the bed in order to stretch himself out. He’d been kneeling down for well over an hour.
Edgeworth struggled to find the words. “Phoenix… It's wonderful.”
“Really? I feel like I could’ve done better with the shading on some of the petals but the reference on my phone was so hard to use because of the screen size and-”
Before he could criticise himself anymore Edgeworth cut him off. “I’m not an art critic, I don’t mind if it’s not perfect. Frankly, I must apologise for doubting you earlier, it seems you still have a bit of skill in you after all.” The corners of his mouth tugged into a fond smile
Phoenix’s gaze lit up with pride as a gentle pinkness came to his cheeks. “Aww, Miles!” He made his way to the top of the bed in order to capture Edgeworth’s lips in a loving kiss. “You can be so kind sometimes.”
Edgeworth raised his left eyebrow at him. “What do you mean by sometimes?”
Phoenix just grinned, booping Edgeworth’s nose. The odd wetness that was left behind was all the evidence he needed to know that he probably had a red splotch of paint on the tip of his nose now, also Phoenix was snickering into the hand which had clamped over his mouth.
Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “Go and clean yourself up before you make any more mess.” He leaned over to grab a tissue from his bedside table, rubbing the paint off before it could dry.
“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to admire my work.” He pressed a final kiss to Edgeworth’s temple. Taking both empty tea cups and his box of art supplies, he made his way over to the door. “I’ll bring you some dinner later. I can’t be bothered to cook today so does Chinese takeaway sound alright?”
So he pours all his heart and soul into a painting that will eventually be discarded but then doesn’t want to cook a simple meal for three. Classic Phoenix. Edgeworth couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. “Of course, see you later dear.” He flashed a soft smile.
With that, he was alone in his room with the sound of his TV and the familiar voice of Will Powers talking in the movie. He looked at his cast again, taking more time to admire the detail. They weren’t exactly realistic roses, but they did the job. Oddly, now he couldn’t wait to return to work, the task of recalling the story of his broken ankle was made sweeter by Phoenix’s relentless need for him to be happy.
He often denied it, but he was so thankful he cared.