Edgeworth hurriedly strode up to the park in pursuit of his oblivious boyfriend, refusing to run in order to retain his dignity in public - although it wasn't like anybody's eyes were on him tonight due to the fact that the humongous crowd of colourfully-clothed flag-wavers' eyes were all glued to the fire in front of them, the glossy surfaces of their only method of vision gorgeously reflecting the rhythmic dances of the flames. Once the silvery-haired man finally arrived, it became worryingly apparent that Phoenix was nowhere in sight and, as the prosecutor stared down at his phone with the expectancy of some sort of message, he was dismayed to find that the last text he'd received from the shorter man had been rotting away for an hour in his notifications tab:
Messages: Phoenix 💕
'See? I told you I'd be fine :,) I've arrived here safe and sound and am waiting for Clementine - I'll keep you updated if anything happens!
Phoenix :)'
Edgeworth decided to vent his concerns by releasing a large, loud, 'huff' of cool air into the chilly night's atmosphere, swiftly typing a reply in a brief rush of futile hope;
Messages: Sent
'Ok, but where are you now? Keep me updated; I don't like having to sit and wait at home without you.
Edgeworth xx'
As the prosecutor slid his exquisite, new, smartphone into his blazer's matching crimson-red trouser's pocket, he begun to mull over the fact that he knew that he was lying about his whereabouts (and didn't want to have to deceive his boyfriend), but eventually came to the conclusion that telling the truth would reveal that he was spying on the pair and could potentially ruin the entire experiment if Clementine saw the message - besides, it wasn't like lying about such a unimportant point would make any difference in the long-run, anyway. The silvery-haired man was here for one reason - and one reason only.

To keep Phoenix safe.

Edgeworth had regretted even allowing himself to let down his guard in the face of those insufferably influential, doting, gorgeous blue puppy-eyes, bitter about the whole idea of trusting his boyfriend to defend himself against the accomplice of a sexual predator if the scrawny police officer tried anything. The whole thing was a huge fiasco in the prosecutor's mind - a fiasco in favour of Kristoph -, and Edgeworth wasn't used to fiascos; No, Edgeworth wasn't used to ever having the lower hand. The silvery-haired man had always been on top - whether that be in court, chess or bed - so this 'lying in wait for something bad to happen' game was completely unbeknownst to him,especially with such an important individual to him on the line.
"Phoenix.." The prosecutor slowly spun around on his heel, scanning the luminous sea of people once more with sickening futility dawning on him again, as he murmured his lost lover's name, relishing in the homely, warm, sound of each syllable upon his tongue, wallowing amidst his admiration of the fact that it was second-nature for the silvery-haired man to alienate the word from its original meaning and turn it into nothing more than his favourite mixture of sounds in the universe. The prosecutor hadn't been completely immersed in his, slightly sinful, thoughts before his sleek, steely-grey, eyes stumbled across a familiar figure in the distance, his lip curling in distaste as he recognised the characteristically curly hair and scruffy clothing.

The figure was standing alone.

Rolling his eyes and mentally preparing himself for whatever idiocy lay ahead, Edgeworth ventured onward towards the scrawny police officer, concerned about the deceptive whereabouts of his boyfriend.
"Mr Persival,"
"Huh-" Clementine jumped in shock as he heard the air molecules chattering, repeating his surname over and over again as if in a game of 'Chinese Whispers', imitating a nauseatingly familiar voice. The scrawny police officer glared behind him indignantly at the, as always, immaculately dressed in his trademark, wine-red, suit and dark grey waistcoat Edgeworth clenched his jaw once their eyes met, both sides coolly eyeing each other;
"Oh, it's only you, Mr Edgeworth."
"Where is my boyfriend."
"I didn't realise you came with Phoenix,"
"Mr Wright to you." Was all the prosecutor snapped in response, infuriated by Clementine's constant short-term memory (although he could be doing it on purpose) on matters of etiquette.
"I didn't realise you came with Mr Wright, then."
"I didn't. Where is he." The silvery-haired man persisted agitatedly, having to mentally force himself not to grip this man by the shoulders and give him a taste of his own medicine.
"That's the thing... I... I don't know.."
"Surely you jest. You can't seriously think that I'm going to believe such an awfully crafted tale, can you?" 
"No, I'm.. I'm being serious." Clementine looked down at the muddied grass beneath their shoes, avoiding confronting Edgeworth's vision;
"This guy... He came over and took Phoenix away from behind! He was drunk, I think."
"Don't give me hearsay."
"But it's the truth, Mr Edgeworth..."
"Alright then. If this is the so-called 'truth', then you should be able to answer this honestly," The prosecutor paused for effect, continuing once he noted that the scrawny police-officer had nodded;
"Do you like Phoenix - as a friend? Would you care if something happened to him?" Clementine blinked, stepping forwards, away from the fire.
"Of course I do and of course I would! I can't believe he's gone missing again - it upsets me a-"
"Then why didn't you try and stop this man from taking him away?"

The crowd surrounding the two men cheered as the first firework shot upwards into the heavens, aligning itself with the beautifully twinkling stars above everyone's heads, eventually burning out and becoming nothing more than a glowing spray of rainbow-coloured lights dotted across the thick, pitch-black, blanket of darkness, for a mere moment before each and every helpless spark fell to its doom back on Earth - dead.