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The gentle breeze of the last day of June, a final goodbye from spring, carries promise of warm days and sultry evenings to come. Honeysuckle-scented coolness blends with impossibly bright skies to wash the flowered landscape in blooming glory, no longer drenched by vernal showers but warmed by summer’s scorching rays.
A perfect day, thought Miles Edgeworth, to take your brand-new dog to the park.
He wore a wine-colored cardigan over a black t-shirt, as the evening threatened to cool after sunset and he wasn’t sure how long they’d be out. Pess, the mixed-breed Miles had brought home from the shelter just two weeks ago, was still getting used to being walked on her leash and would probably require some coaxing to behave. She was a feisty thing, not even coming up to his knee but still able to tackle him to the couch as though she were twice his size. She’d been zooming holes into the carpet of Miles’s studio apartment since he’d said the word “walk” ten minutes ago; he laughed as he watched her nearly knock over the floor lamp four different times, the only idea in her mind seeming to be gogogogogogogogo .
The shelter wasn’t certain what type of dog Pess was or how old she was, but Miles guessed she was mostly Shiba Inu mixed with some terrier or other and probably around 2 or 3 years old. He loved dogs, sometimes more than people; his father Gregory had three at home, all different breeds and sizes and personalities. He’d been urging Miles to get a dog of his own, but the meager salary he earned as a public defender was barely enough to keep himself fed, let alone support another living being. Miles had been performing exceptionally well at work in the past year and had thus just received a raise and large bonus, so he’d decided the moment the money cleared his bank account - well, the moment after he’d paid rent - he would head down to the shelter and adopt the sweet face he’d fallen in love with while browsing their online adoption listings. She’d been in her new forever home since the middle of June, both learning each other’s quirks during the day and snuggling tightly under his fluffy comforter at night.
“Pess, please!” Miles laughed, catching her as she leapt from the couch. “I have to get your harness on before we go anywhere!” She licked his face as he wrapped her in a frilly maroon and white vest, the only harness he’d found at the pet boutique befitting his princess; he clicked her lead in place then slipped on some tennis shoes he’d left sitting by his door before heading out. There was a park just five blocks from his apartment building, a gorgeous green space with a small leash-free running area for dogs and a playground for children. The two had been frequenting the park, Miles taking Pess out to burn off some of her seemingly endless supply of energy at least once an evening. The dog walker he’d hired during the week took her there daily as well, so Pess knew the exact path to take to lead them directly to the park.
Pess was pulling with all of her tiny might to get Miles to speed up; the harness kept her from choking against the lead, but she still strained to get out of it and dart ahead. As soon as they arrived at the free-run area, Miles unbuckled the leash from the back of his dog’s harness, and watched in horror as she bolted past him in the other direction, crashing directly into the arms of a brown-haired, tan-skinned little girl on the playground.
“Pess! PESS! Get back here at once!” Miles jogged after his dog, who was now covering the laughing child in kisses. As he arrived to pick her up, the child’s father approached as well, warmly laughing at the situation.
“O-oh no, I am so sorry,” Miles said as he refastened the leash on Pess’s harness, swiftly lifting her from the ground. He looked at the man before him, lips parting slightly as he realized how attractive he was; he wore a blue V-neck shirt, a shocking cobalt against his tan skin that somehow perfectly matched his eyes. His hair was loose and curly, black waves mostly swept back behind a red headband aside from a single strand on his forehead. His smile was wide, a beam of pure sunshine, and his laugh was rich and deep, honey flowing from the chalice of the gods.
“Hey, don’t worry about it! Looks like she made a friend,” he chuckled, squatting down momentarily to wipe his daughter’s face. “Say hi, Trucy!”
“Hi,” came a shy voice from the young girl, her eyes trained firmly on the ground. “I weawwy wike your doggie.”
“Trucy, meet Pess.” Miles lowered his dog to sniff Trucy’s hand, and she began to pet her as her tail wagged furiously against Miles’s chest. “I just adopted her, so I wasn’t sure if she’d be alright with children. O-oh, by the way, I’m Miles. Miles Edgeworth.” He stuck his other hand out, the other man grabbing it to shake immediately.
“Phoenix Wright!” the man replied cheerily, Miles noticing how warm his skin was against his own cool hand. “Nice to meet you!”
Miles felt himself mirroring the grin he was being treated to. “So…I - er, I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Truce and I just moved to town a week ago. We, uh…her mom passed away in January and we needed a change.” The conversation was flowing so naturally Miles felt as if he’d known Phoenix for years despite having just met. He noticed a slight glint of sadness in the man’s eyes at the mention of the girl’s mother, a sadness that passed as quickly as it had arrived.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”
“Nah, it’s alright. We weren’t together anymore. She got really homophobic when I came out as bisexual so we broke up not too long after Trucy was born. Barely kept in contact with us outside of scheduled visits. It...it was a weird situation.” Miles was trying his hardest to listen, now knowing the man he suddenly desired to get to know much better was also queer.
“I, oh…er, a tragedy nonetheless I suppose,” he finally managed to say, feeling a twinge in his chest. Could Phoenix tell he was gay (and therefore a safe person to come out to) after only moments of knowing him? Was he that open with his bisexuality that he would tell a complete stranger whom he never planned on seeing again? Miles was intrigued by the man, who had still made no moves to leave their conversation despite Trucy having scampered back to the jungle gym a while ago. “S-so, what do you do?”
“Oh, I’m uh…I’m a defense attorney.”
Miles blinked slowly, certain he’d misheard the man. There was no way an angel had descended from Heaven to grace his presence AND work alongside him in his chosen field. “Defense attorney, you say?”
Phoenix, now looking sheepish, ran his hand behind his neck and shrugged. “Y-yeah…”
“I am too!” Cobalt eyes lit up, meeting Miles’s gaze with amused excitement. “I’m a public defender for the courts. My father is actually a private defense attorney as well - are you familiar with Gregory Edgeworth?”
“Oh, EDGEWORTH! That’s why your name sounded familiar!” Miles couldn’t hide his delight at hearing his name in the other man’s mouth. “He was a guest speaker at my law school two years ago! I’ve always wanted to meet him. You’re his son?”
“The one and only. I’m certain I could arrange a meeting…perhaps over dinner?” Miles felt himself blushing, but he didn’t care. Phoenix, the gorgeous defense attorney who was brand new in town, was turning just as pink.
“I would love that, actually. I, uh…I’m still getting moved in and I’ve gotta get Trucy enrolled in school, but I’m free on Tuesday night if that works?”
Miles’s heart was ready to burst from his chest, suddenly incredibly thankful his dog was such a wild creature. “It’s a date, then,” he said, smiling as he handed Phoenix his phone. “May I have your number so we can plan further?” Phoenix took the phone and eagerly called his own, fingers lingering against cool skin for just a moment longer than necessary as he handed it back to Miles.
“Sweet, I’m excited! Hey, we were just about to head out - we’ve been here almost three hours and I gotta feed the little one. I’ll shoot you a text when we get settled at home, okay?
“I’ll be looking forward to it, Phoenix,” Miles cooed, gazing at the man’s backside as he trotted off to grab his daughter, amazed by how well the jeans he wore accentuated the curvature of his muscular thighs. He set Pess back on the ground and directed her towards their apartment, heading home themselves so they could attend their typical Sunday lunch at his father’s house. Gregory lived a short drive from Miles’s apartment, so they quickly hiked home and climbed into his red sports car - a regrettable purchase he’d made upon getting his first full-time paycheck - reaching his father’s home in under ten minutes.
Gregory waved from the door as they walked up the driveway, nearly barrelled over by the boxer mix that now leapt onto Miles and covered him and Pess in kisses. An elderly Dachshund was in his arms as he hugged his son, wrapped in a blanket with just her dappled snoot sticking out. Miles stepped over his third furry sibling, the laziest Golden Retriever he’d ever met, before setting Pess down so she could play.
“Smells great, Dad,” he said, walking into the kitchen and inhaling the aroma of the hamburgers sizzling away on his cooktop. Miles began fussing with plates and silverware as Gregory retrieved two beers from the fridge, placing them on coasters at their respective seats as his son set the table.
“How was your day, son?” he said, screwing the lid off of his bottle and taking a long swig.
“It was wonderful, Dad,” Miles smirked. “ I think I’ll get to introduce you to Mr. Wright very soon.”