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"Miles, look!"
An excited little Phoenix pulled Miles by the wrist into a bush. They were supposed to be in a picnic, but Larry had ditched them for that Betty from fifth grade almost an hour earlier.
"It's a hummingbird!" Phoenix whispered, pointing at something ahead of the bush.
Miles squinted his eyes, trying to discern the supposed hummingbird. Everything he could see was a little blueish-green blur flying around at preposterous – his father had taught him that word earlier that day – speeds.
Eventually, though, the hummingbird stopped at a bush of wild california poppies near where they were hiding.
His eyes widened as he focused on the bird. It was beautiful, like a little emerald . And so, so close. He had never seen one so closely before.
It flew from flower to flower, stopping at some, skipping others. When it checked about every bloom on the plant, it flew away into the trees, mixing on the brilliant foliage from mid-summer.
"They are so cool!" Phoenix piped up by his side.
The boy jumped up and started waving his hands around. "The way they fly is different! They make, like, little eight-shapes with their wings, so they can stop while flying or even fly backwards!" Phoenix tried to imitate the movement with his own arms, almost hitting Miles at one point. "They are the only kind of bird that can do that!"
Moving his arms wildly, he lost his grip on equilibrium, falling over his friend. Miles groaned upon impact, Phoenix scrambling to get off of him and allow space to breathe. They extracted themselves from one another and sat on the ground, and the dark-haired boy, inexplicably, started laughing.
Miles tried to fake annoyance, but he couldn't. That warm and fuzzy feeling that made itself present when he was around his friend bubbled up, and he laughed too.
Both boys laughed and talked on that same spot until their parents came to fetch them.
There aren't hummingbirds in Germany.
In fact, there aren't hummingbirds anywhere outside America.
The continent was home, and the only home, for that family of birds.
It was convenient for Miles.
Last month, he went to see his mentor in court. The defendant was being prosecuted for animal trafficking. One of the trafficked kinds of animals were hummingbirds.
They reminded him of Phoenix.
It had been years since the last time he had seen one. He hadn't noticed it, but there were never any on the von Karma's gardens, regardless of how beautiful the flowers were.
That was good.
He had to leave Phoenix behind.
He had to leave everything behind.
A hummingbird sat at one branch of a tree in front of the courthouse.
I didn't kill my father.
The bird's underside glowed in a soft tone of red.
Von Karma used me.
The bird, scared by nearing footsteps, flew away.
I'm free.
Phoenix, Maya and Miles were heading to Eldoon's Noodles after a harrowing trial. The trial that proved Miles's innocence. The trial that put von Karma in jail. The trial that set him free.
"Oh, man, I really need something with real substance after that!" Maya exclaimed.
"Well, I think all of us could use some salty noodles." Phoenix chuckled.
Phoenix.
Miles couldn't define that man. Or his own feelings for him. That fuzziness that came from his childhood. What was it? What made him feel so safe around that man? What did that mean?
Was that love?
The red-necked hummingbird seemed to follow them for the rest of the block, until ultimately abandoning the group in favor of feeding from a daffodil, hanging from a perch at one of the courthouse’s many windows.
A painting of a hummingbird hang on the wall.
It was as if it was mocking him.
It sat quietly on the hotel's room. On a German hotel. In some small city in Germany.
Colorful, masterfully done, movement captured in precise strokes by the artist.
Miles hated it.
He needed to do this. He needed to get away from the States, from his old life.
He didn't know who he was.
Better yet, he hadn’t known who he was since he was nine.
And after the truth came out, after he saw von Karma breaking down on the stand, it only festered.
Gant admitting to handing prosecutors false evidence was only what ripped open the wound, what let the rotten insides show.
He couldn't keep on like this.
That painting… The use of red was gorgeous, worthy of a place in a gallery rather than this dingy hotel, and it looked so, so much like a spray of blood on the wall.
He took out the pistol, staring down at the dark barrel.
He loaded it with one sole bullet.
He put it under his chin.
The hummingbird stared at him, with judgment, almost as if it was sardonically asking: ‘do you want to become part of me?’
He lowered the gun.
Ah, how curious, it really looks like a hummingbird , was the first comprehensible thought that passed through Miles's mind while he waited for his private jet to get ready, when a hummingbird moth flew by through the flowery bushes and trees.
Larry had just called him about Phoenix.
Phoenix who had fallen seventy feet from a burning bridge into the deadliest river in the States in the middle of winter.
Please, please be okay.
He didn't know what he would do if Phoenix – his stomach churned just from imagining it – died.
He had just come to terms with the fact he loved the man, and now there was a very real chance that he may never be able to confess.
Worse, even, that he may never see Phoenix again. At least from outside a casket.
Shivers rippled through him at the mere thought.
"Be alright..." His whisper was swept by the harsh wind, flying alongside the moth, and hopefully being swept all the way over the ocean and into the ears of a certain attorney.
It had been some time since he last saw a hummingbird.
Phoenix and Trucy accompanied him. They went on a short trip to a nearby park, as Trucy spotted a cotton candy stand. Since he was traveling around Europe in his studies for most of the time, seeing a hummingbird had become a rare occurrence.
Though, that was now remediated, as what he could identify as a violet-crowned hummingbird flew by.
Trucy pointed at it animatedly, as it stopped on some roses.
"Look! Look Daddy! A hummingbird!" The girl, now eleven years old, pulled at her father's hand, motioning wildly at the bird.
Just like Phoenix when we were kids.
It was sometimes difficult to believe the two weren't actually related.
"Yes, sweetie." He said, softly. "A very beautiful one at that."
Not as much as you.
Thoughts like that plagued Miles's mind since he took his year away in Germany. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to be part of the little family Phoenix and Trucy made.
But now wouldn't be the time. Now, Phoenix was struggling with alcohol and depression, raising a child, investigating the people responsible for stripping his badge away and tricking a dangerous man.
He had too much on his hands already.
Miles couldn't add the complexities of a romantic relationship on top of all that.
The hummingbird flew away, his eyes following it until it vanished.
An amenable walk in the park with Phoenix; just the best way to spend the day.
The weather was great, the day sunny but not hot. The lukewarm temperature being perfect for their casual stroll.
Phoenix had his first case after the disbarment last week, reflected on how excitedly he looked talking about the more absurd details from an already absurd case.
"And then, I don't think you saw it, but Orla-"
He was so beautiful like this. It was so good to finally see that happiness, that brilliance back to him. The way his blue-brown irises were shining from the soft afternoon light, the way he laughed brightly and openly.
As they walked, exchanging tales and anecdotes about their recent cases, Miles noticed something green on a corner of the sidewalk. He crouched down to have a better view, and was met with a dead hummingbird.
Phoenix, who had squatted to see it too, took the small body in his hand. "Poor thing." He said sadly, examining its wings. "The wing's broken."
He wordlessly set to the nearest patch of dirt, followed by Miles on the deviation from their path. Phoenix dug a small hole with a sturdy stick he found nearby, and delicately deposited the corpse inside it, revolving the dirt he had removed on it again. Breaking a stem from a close wildflower, he deposited it above the makeshift grave.
"Rest in peace, little guy."
They took back to meandering aimlessly through the park, and sat on a bench to watch the impending sunset.
The sun painted the sky in beautiful reddish-oranges and the clouds in pinks, ranging from dark wine to baby tones. Phoenix looked absolutely mesmerizing bathed in the soft colors, his skin gaining a peachy appearance and his eyes reflecting the patterns in the sky.
"I love you."
Phoenix seemed stunned for a second, but spun around, now face to face with Miles, eyes twinkling with premature stars.
"I love you too."
Miles leaned forward, and Phoenix met him halfway.
When Miles left early from work, he expected a lot of things arriving home, but his boyfriend arranging a gamma of different shaped... things... all over their yard and windows was not one of them.
"Phoenix?"
He, who had apparently not noticed his arrival, turned to Miles.
"Miles!" He finished screwing one of the objects and got down the stepladder, jumping on the ground with a grunt of effort. "You're early!" Phoenix greeted him with a quick kiss.
"Yes, I decided to come home early today." Miles entered the house, Phoenix following close behind. "What are you doing out there?" He asked while sliding off from his shoes, jabot and set his briefcase above the usual cabinet.
"Oh, I'm setting up some hummingbird thingies."
"Hummingbird thingies?" Miles quirked a brow up, putting the takeout boxes on the kitchen's countertop.
"Yeah, those things that you put water and sugar in and they attract hummingbirds, and a few homes for other birds too." Phoenix waved a hand around as he spoke, as if it would add anything to the explanation. Miles smiled.
"Well, that seems nice. I look forward to having hummingbirds on our lawn. And Trucy?" They sat on the kitchen table, ready to eat.
"She didn't message me, so I assume everything's okay. And you know, she's already eighteen Miles, she can take care of herself."
Miles huffed, but accepted the point. They talked about their day, exchanging funny things that happened at their workplaces and their employee's unbelievable shenanigans.
Dinner finished, the dishes were quickly taken care of by a conjoined effort. Both men, tired, watched some cheesy courtroom drama they could make fun of, and not much later retired to bed.
When Miles got out of the bath, Phoenix was already fast asleep. He lifted the blankets, careful as not to wake up his partner, and pulled Phoenix's head to his chest. The man unconsciously curled up, nuzzling in his pajamas.
Miles smiled tenderly at him, whispering.
"Sleep well, my hummingbird."