prosecutory | IC MAILBOX

[When Edgeworth receives this message, it is as if his heart suddenly sprouted tiny cherub wings and started fluttering around his ribcage...and he doesn't know why. And he is inordinately puzzled that Quistis would think that way of him. He might even be a bit...offended. That bit of him he shoves into the back of his head.]

What on Earth makes you think that, Miss Trepe?

[ She's rather relieved when he responds! It's been a while and she knows she can be overbearing to the point of being considered motherly. Which... she imagines is something of a turn-off. She can breathe now. ]

We just haven't spoken in a while.
I have something of a knack for jumping to conclusions.
I'm very happy that you aren't, though.

Would you perhaps like to do something soon?
I know that we are both often very busy... but I'd like to see you, if you've the time?
If you don't, that is also alright. I would rather not inconvenience you, Mister Edgeworth.
But it would make me very happy if you did.

[He...wants to make her happy. It's not just his usual courtesy, but...he feels very much obligated to see her. There's no harm in it, right? They were friends...]

What did you have in mind?

[ All of this feels natural to her, nothing at all out of the ordinary here. ]

I don't really do that whole "hanging out" sort of thing.
I'm a little dull...
Would you maybe like to go for a walk with me?
If you don't find the weather too disagreeable, that is.

[Why not? And Edgeworth finds himself disagreeing inwardly with Quistis. She was hardly dull.]

All right. Where do you wish to meet?

[ Perhaps they were the sort that didn't need excitement, is all. To some that could be considered dull. ]

Would you perhaps like to meet halfway between our homes?
Or, I could meet you at yours?

Yours. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to put you through too much trouble.

[ She takes a few minutes to respond on this one, checking if Seifer is here. It isn't even that he actually would care so much as he enjoys making her miserable and would likely start something in... that way he does. When the coast appears clear, she responds. ]

That is fine.
If you'd like, I could have a kettle on?

[The day has likewise been slow for Edgeworth. And he did like to spend some time on his own or with others, even though he didn't mind sharing the same house as Rise and Jam. Still, with Jam around, his personal space needed some breathing room.]

That would be appreciated.

[ Quistis could be a bit touchy-feely, but she was still a bit shy. So he would have his wish fulfilled. ]

Alright. I'm at 1468.
I look forward to seeing you soon.
:)

Very well.

[With that last message, Edgeworth makes his way to 1468 as if doing a regular house visit. He feels really...good...about this visit, as if he would get something out of it.

It's not far so he will walk, and eventually Quistis will hear someone ringing the doorbell (or knocking if these houses don't have doorbells wow Auste how long have you been in this game).]

[ She takes the brief time between her last message and his arrival to give her hair a quick brush before pulling it up into a bun and then to reapply lipstick. She frowns a little at her reflection in the mirror then shrugs. She's not bad looking at all, perhaps it was just her glasses?

She still puts them on as she slips on a cardigan over her shoulders. It isn't cold in her home by a long shot, but she does often find herself a touch chilly (sleeveless silk blouses can do that). She smooths out her skirt when she hears the doorbell... maybe...? and slips into the foyer and opens the door to greet him. Almost instantly, she leans in and gently touches his arm. Her fingers curl just enough that they can be felt and she gestures for him to follow her inside. ] I am very happy that you came.

[ There's a place near the door to hang coats, scarves, and the like and a rug with a pair of blue running shoes and a pair of women's boots. It's sparsely decorated and bright, flowers in vases scattered around. Mostly just piles of books of every sort all over. ] I'm afraid I'm a bit of a disorganized organized while I'm reading something. [ A lot of them appear to be reference books, so that makes sense... Her hand still touches his arm, minutely guiding him. ]

[Edgeworth, on the other hand, had only put on typical cold weather wear, including a thick jacket instead of his usual suit jacket, a scarf and a coat. He did pause in front of a mirror to check his hair on the way out...that cowlick at the back of his head just wouldn't stay down.

When he gets there, and Quistis touches his arm, a thrilling frisson courses through that arm and into the rest of him, as if someone had poured hot syrup inside him. For a while he ends up rooted to the spot, but quickly lets her lead him inside before she is one too many paces ahead.]

It - [His voice catches. He clears his throat politely, and bows slightly.] - is a pleasure.

[Edgeworth hangs his coat and scarf up...and the first things that catch his eye (apart from Quistis herself) are the books. They ARE rather helter-skelter, but he decides not to say anything. Notably he does not say anything about her touching his arm when normally, he would have tried to gently shake her off. His mind is screaming at his heart, she is in our personal space, Miles! He decides that conflict by picking up one of the books from the pile and reading the title.]

Likewise, of course. [ She removes herself out of politeness and somehow it leaves the same thrill of touch, the same awkward fumbling to find the right words to describe what she currently feels (she settles on electric). ]

Once I'm more acquainted with the world I've been reading about I can tidy up some. I just need frequent reference. You start on one book and then you need five reference books -- then five for those. I'm sure you see where I'm going with that. [ An infinite amount of books, which she seems to be quite thrilled over. She doesn't treat it as taxing or annoying. Her smile reaches her eyes. ] Ah, I've found myself entranced by Roman and Greek history and their philosophers. [ It's Aristotle. ] I've heard that hundreds of years later there are similar interesting people in the Italian Renaissance. I look forward to some day getting to that.

[ She turns her back to him, heading toward the kitchen. She doesn't seem to mind if he follows or not; she's comfortable leaving him alone. Her home hasn't been remodeled so it is easy to find where he's going. It is essentially the same as it came, sans personal touches. It's mostly bright, white, clean. The kitchen is more organized than the living room, pristine. There's a small pile of books on the kitchen table, but they're perfectly lined up. She's busying herself with tea now. ]

I've quite a selection of loose leaf. I'll be having Earl Grey, but you're free to choose what you like. I have some lemon sablés and macarons, as well. [ She's already plating them, so he doesn't feel like he has to ask for any. She'd like this to be perfect, make a good impression... make him feel comfortable around her. She's over-thinking it all, feeling flustered and she can feel the warmth spread to her face. ]

[Edgeworth nods, then puts down the book he had been inspecting, back to where it had been.]

You're certainly...thorough. [There is a note of approval and a touch of admiration in his voice. Some people, when confronted with a new world, would probably content themselves with the basics. Quistis was going the extra mile.

When she enters the kitchen, Edgeworth follows a few steps behind, then stops shy of the kitchen, watching her.] Earl Grey is fine, and thank you. [He quickly shifts his attention to the other books before gravitating toward the table, in a surprisingly good mood.]

I throw myself into things I'm passionate about, I find. Though disliking something -- a task or similar -- is no excuse to be lazy. In my opinion, at least. Of course, I enjoy my work and hobbies, so I think it's easier to feel that way. [ She clearly is someone who likes to learn, if not be knowledgeable and aware. ]

Alright, I'll start on that, then. [ Instead of putting it in separate cups, she fills a larger tea infuser with leaves and then inside of the pot, leaving the top half-on so it remains hot. She turns toward him, her back to the counter. She offers him a nervous smile while brushing some hair out of her eyes. It only takes a moment to push those butterflies down and grab two small plates of sweets and place them on the table. Before she really realizes it, she finds herself crossing the distance and in his personal space, looking up at him with that same smile. ] I really am pleased that you decided to meet with me today. [ She pauses. ] You're missing something, though.

I agree. There are aspects of my job I find tedious at times, but I cannot gloss over them.

[Edgeworth peers at the titles of the books stacked on the table, but finds his gaze instantly drawn to Quistis' back. A warm sensation bubbles inside of him, the hot syrup poured into him by her touch being heated further, drawing ever closer to boiling point. He finds himself thinking of their conversations, especially the time when he was a little boy and she thought he was cute -

Edgeworth hurriedly stuffs that thought away even though Quistis would have no way of knowing what he was thinking about. Before he can notice the sweets being placed on the table, she is suddenly in her personal space, smiling at him...and the syrup in his being begins forming little butterflies flitting around in his gut the way his heart was fluttering around his ribcage earlier...]

Ah -

[He finds himself smiling back a little, his cheeks feeling as if they had been blasted by twin flame throwers. Soon his entire face was on fire. His hand moves up, ever so slightly, as if wanting to hold hers, but he stuffs that same hand into his pocket.]

It's no trouble at all. [Edgeworth's voice is smooth and sincere. The part of him still capable of complete logical thought immediately thinks of his cravat, the cravat he somehow could no longer put on himself.] And...er, y-yes, I'm afraid there is...

[He had spent a few days without it. There was no use constantly whining and obsessing over that predicament now, especially since several people had already seen him without a cravat. In a moment of self-consciousness, he wonders what Quistis would think about that.]

Edited 2013-12-20 13:24 (UTC)

No, of course not. I've heard you've quite a reputation and that makes sense. Someone so thorough in your line of work is admirable -- so many would rather simply make their money and wash their hands of it.

[ She finds herself worried about what he thinks of her house, what he thinks of how her kitchen is arranged and if the color scheme suits him. More importantly, she put her hair up a little differently and changed the color of lipstick to something just a little more intense (still muted, never too bright). She keeps herself busy, feeling the need to have her hands doing something. It was so much easier when feelings were confirmed, wasn't it? Like this, she didn't know if she could let any of that out. ]

You're wearing a bow tie. [ She confirms, curious over the reasoning behind it. Could it have been those strange boxes the Landlord had been giving others? Or, was it him trying something new on? She reaches over to straighten the bow tie, fingers slipping from the middle to edges before giving it a little tug on each end. It had already been straight, but she wanted some sort of connection. With the way her hand is held, her wrist gently presses against his chest. Quistis allows her touch to linger and meets his eyes. ] It looks rather charming on you, Mister Edgeworth.

[ And as much as she likes this closeness (almost cloying, really), her manners win over. ] Would... you perhaps like to take a seat? [ She should probably remove her hands while she's at it. ]

Why, thank you.

[It is a heartfelt thank you. He meant every word of it. Coming from Quistis, it was like a high compliment. And the way he said it was gentle, as if he did not want to scare or offend or anger her in any way. Edgeworth finds himself noticing the way she did her hair, the tone of her lips, two of the things he usually glossed over when speaking to women. While he put a premium on presentability and neatness, he never went into great detail.

Before Edgeworth could say something completely idiotic and impulsive like, "Y-Yes, I am wearing a bow tie" or something along those lines, Quistis is now straightening it.]

It's fine... [His words hang in the air. He doesn't pull her hands away from him. Her touch makes the nerves in his chest buzz. And he wants to take those hands into his but he manages to control himself; he did not want to look inappropriate or send the wrong messages. Actually, he also wanted to do something about his face, which, he was certain, was probably very pink. Edgeworth considers tossing out another thank you for Quistis appreciating his bow tie and asking no more further questions, but before he can do so (or say anything equally foolish, or act like an utterly lovesick fool - which, unfortunately, he was), she invites him to take a seat.

Edgeworth gives her a small smile of affirmation tempered with amusement. Right. They were supposed to have tea. His manners also take over and he positions himself behind Quistis' chair. If she seats herself, he will pull the chair out for her like a true gentleman. That gave him something logical and not at all cheesy to do. Another point for logic; his mind wins again.]

Edited 2013-12-21 15:08 (UTC)

You're welcome.

[ The way he responds makes her heart go aflutter. It's like her words mean something to him. She was used to being shrugged off (except by Malik, Malik who she had... pined over? Somehow that memory seems far-off, those feelings impossible...). His response leaves little to be desired from him, even makes her feel comfortable in his presence. Would it be so far-off to think that he might feel the same as she did? ]

You're... right, it is. [ Her eyes dart from his neck to mouth to eyes, lingering on his lips for a moment. ] I suppose I was looking for a reason to touch you. [ She confesses with her own embarrassment finally making itself known, cheeks becoming rosy -- all the way down to her neck. She's flushed to an extent that it might be a little clear that this sort of behavior from her is uncommon, that he alone is special.

She retracts herself reluctantly to fumble with the teapot and bring it to the table, placing it in the middle between the tea cups that she'd placed there before he'd come in.

If anyone could sit down nervously, Quistis somehow managed it. Her head ducks more out of demureness than thanks. Now, what to talk about...? ]

I...ah, I...see...

[He becomes redder if that is possible, running a hand consciously through his hair. While he had nothing against her continuing to straighten his bow tie for no good reason other than to be close to him, he...decides to let her go. They had tea ready, and he did not want to end up doing or saying anything foolish or ungentlemanly with Quistis in his personal space.

But now he regrets not taking her hand when the opportunity presented itself, not taking her hand and reassuring her that she was doing nothing wrong. He glances away for a moment as if searching for something else to focus on, but finds himself constantly drawn back to Quistis.

He patiently waits for her to bring the teapot, only pulling her chair out for her when she decides to sit, paying no heed to her nervousness (he probably didn't notice anyway and was probably more concerned with how he carried himself right now; hopefully not with the air of a lovesick teenager).

Edgeworth, on the other hand, seats himself rather abruptly, too eager to begin tea, which should present less opportunities for him to mess things up.]

Did you make these yourself? [He gestures to the lemon sablés and macarons curiously.]

Edited 2013-12-23 14:30 (UTC)

[ She quickly decides that conversation was somehow infinitely easier in text. Although she wonders if she'd been this red (she knew she was; it was the sort of flush that made you feel warm and uncomfortable from the inside out) when it came to texting? Likely not as much, at least not to the extent it made her flustered.

Quistis just needed to pull herself together. Blushing school girl had never been like her, but the teasing hadn't quite been her, either. It was just foreign to like someone and have them maybe possibly like her in return -- at least anyone she genuinely felt something for, anyway. (Except for Malik. Whatever happened to him? She felt so at ease with him... they must have broken up, right? Somehow it seems to slip her mind where and when that happened. Then that thought slips her mind, like it was never there. Strange.)

She finds herself pouring the tea now, allowing the warmth of the pot to soothe her nerves. ]

Hm? Oh, no. [ A beat. ] Not that I cannot, just that I don't often find the time with two full-time jobs. If I had known I'd have company, I likely would have tried. It's not too difficult, just time consuming. [ Mostly in the clean-up and preparation, not so much actually the putting together and baking. ] I'm not much of a homemaker. I'm not very... maternal or affectionate or any of those sorts of things. Being analytical and logical earns me labels like "Ice Queen" -- though I'm not really that cold. I don't think, anyway.

[ She gently pushes the teacup and saucer toward him, in addition to a small plate with which he may dish out any snacks for himself. There three containers in the middle of the table: a plain white container of cream, one of sugar cubes, and another of honey. She assumes he'll also help himself to those, if he so chooses. ]

Thank you.

[Edgeworth accepts the cup gratefully, with a short nod and a smile, and proceeds to add a lump of sugar into his cup, and a touch of honey. Sitting at the table, with her face at eye level, did not help his situation at all. He could see her flush but thought nothing of it and found it...er, well, endearing was one way to put it. Heck, it didn't detract from her beauty at all. Sometimes he blinks, or focuses on sipping his tea, just to make sure he didn't end up spending the majority of his time here staring at her intently.]

Hmm, yes, that is understandable. But labels should mean nothing as long as you believe in what you are doing.

[Then he takes a couple of the macarons and two lemon sablés, and places them on his plate. He starts on the sablés first, taking a bite out of one delicately.]

You are very much welcome, Mister Edgeworth.

[ She uses the tea as an excuse to busy herself and calm her nerves further. The more time she spent with him, the easier it was to simply be near him. He, himself, was soothing in some ways. His demeanor was comforting and familiar, lacking in the same demands that others silently made either for discussion or entertainment. Quistis thinks she could probably enjoy comfortable silence with him, though their friendship (and whatever else may come along side it) was rather new. She would like to learn more about him, if she can.

Quistis takes two cookies, the first which she breaks in half and chews on carefully, not even making a crumb fall to the plate. Her mouth is empty when she takes a sip of tea (honey, no sugar, a drizzle of cream). ]

I don't disagree in the slightest, I just find it can be... hard to form connections with people when they have some preconceived notion about you. I could argue that people like that aren't worth knowing, but when it all comes down to it... we only have one chance at a first impression. [ She takes another sip of tea as she mulls it over, peering over at him. Briefly, she considers straightening out that perfectly straight bow tie of his again. Thankfully, she tosses that notion aside. ] Sometimes you have to care even when you don't.

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