OOC: Memory (002)
He closed his eyes, his vision tilting back to the ceiling when he opened them. He smelled metal, and faint smell of ink and paper behind him, and when he stepped away, he could see the filing cabinet he'd presumably been leaning against. He turned back to the desk, past the potted plant, and grabbed the rest of the files. These were tucked away in the cabinet that was eerily silent when he opened it. There was no feel of metal against his hand, no heavy metallic thumping as he pulled it open and no sound as he closed it.
He smelled her before he could see her approaching just out of his line of vision, flowers that he didn't quite have names for just on the outside of his senses when he turned. It was the woman from his dream, the one that had taken him by the hand, and he tried to will himself to hear her, to fight against his body going through the already predetermined motions and to try to reach out for her.
She was smiling, and cast a glance to the desk before saying something he couldn't quite catch. Another smile, and she stepped back for the desk, turning as she did, and looking at the mostly clean top. She said something to him, raising her eyebrows in a genuinely interested way before he nodded hurriedly. He gestured for her to wait a moment as he stepped for the next room, bypassing the chairs and low table on the way.
There was a long desk in the next room, a chair and a phone at it, and directly across from that was a sofa. The air smelled like something sweet...cookies. They pulled at him, but he couldn't place why the smell was significant. There was a legal pad on the desk, a blue pen resting on top of it and a plain white envelope beside. The letter was mostly finished, and he quickly scanned it. There were some words there, but some were blurred out, and others where written in a language he couldn't understand. The symbols were jarring among the wide script that filled the rest of the page, and he could only make out a few scattered sentences. "Happy birthday!" was scrawled across the top and underlined a few times. "She seems really sure that I passed, but I'm just worried." Followed under that, and "Maybe I should tell her to start sending cookies to your office, too." further down, in the middle of a jumble of letters without meaning was "I don't really think it's fair that they can print things like that."
He nodded and tapped the pen a couple of times before finishing off the letter.
"So anyway, that's all for now. Sorry I didn't get you anything this year, but maybe Christmas we can get together? I hope to hear from you soon, but even if I don't...I'll probably be seeing you once my exam results come back.
-Phoenix"
The paper was ripped from the pad, folded a few times, and slipped into the envelope. His name was in the top left, and below that was the word "Edgeworth" that spanned across the envelope, "Room 1202" added as a clarification. He picked it up, running his tongue across the flap to seal it, the smell of glue and paper overpowering for a few seconds before he hurried into the other room again.
The woman was expecting it, and she held her hand out, smiling and tucking it into a leather binder next to her pens and a small PDA. She rested her hand on his shoulder when she turned back, slipping the binder under her arm and saying something that he couldn't make out, but made him nod. She was closer now, and his eyes scanned across her for a moment, settling on the pin she wore on her lapel. Her suit was a professional sort of black and white, but around her neck...the stone from his dream, but in blue. He could have almost felt the heat rise on his neck as the looked between the two again, and he wondered briefly just what kind of professional woman she was, really.
But the pin and the stone- there they were.
He could smell flowers and powder on her, but it was light, distant. When she turned away his vision dimmed and the smell left with her.
He smelled her before he could see her approaching just out of his line of vision, flowers that he didn't quite have names for just on the outside of his senses when he turned. It was the woman from his dream, the one that had taken him by the hand, and he tried to will himself to hear her, to fight against his body going through the already predetermined motions and to try to reach out for her.
She was smiling, and cast a glance to the desk before saying something he couldn't quite catch. Another smile, and she stepped back for the desk, turning as she did, and looking at the mostly clean top. She said something to him, raising her eyebrows in a genuinely interested way before he nodded hurriedly. He gestured for her to wait a moment as he stepped for the next room, bypassing the chairs and low table on the way.
There was a long desk in the next room, a chair and a phone at it, and directly across from that was a sofa. The air smelled like something sweet...cookies. They pulled at him, but he couldn't place why the smell was significant. There was a legal pad on the desk, a blue pen resting on top of it and a plain white envelope beside. The letter was mostly finished, and he quickly scanned it. There were some words there, but some were blurred out, and others where written in a language he couldn't understand. The symbols were jarring among the wide script that filled the rest of the page, and he could only make out a few scattered sentences. "Happy birthday!" was scrawled across the top and underlined a few times. "She seems really sure that I passed, but I'm just worried." Followed under that, and "Maybe I should tell her to start sending cookies to your office, too." further down, in the middle of a jumble of letters without meaning was "I don't really think it's fair that they can print things like that."
He nodded and tapped the pen a couple of times before finishing off the letter.
"So anyway, that's all for now. Sorry I didn't get you anything this year, but maybe Christmas we can get together? I hope to hear from you soon, but even if I don't...I'll probably be seeing you once my exam results come back.
-Phoenix"
The paper was ripped from the pad, folded a few times, and slipped into the envelope. His name was in the top left, and below that was the word "Edgeworth" that spanned across the envelope, "Room 1202" added as a clarification. He picked it up, running his tongue across the flap to seal it, the smell of glue and paper overpowering for a few seconds before he hurried into the other room again.
The woman was expecting it, and she held her hand out, smiling and tucking it into a leather binder next to her pens and a small PDA. She rested her hand on his shoulder when she turned back, slipping the binder under her arm and saying something that he couldn't make out, but made him nod. She was closer now, and his eyes scanned across her for a moment, settling on the pin she wore on her lapel. Her suit was a professional sort of black and white, but around her neck...the stone from his dream, but in blue. He could have almost felt the heat rise on his neck as the looked between the two again, and he wondered briefly just what kind of professional woman she was, really.
But the pin and the stone- there they were.
He could smell flowers and powder on her, but it was light, distant. When she turned away his vision dimmed and the smell left with her.