A few moments had been all that had been required for Edgeworth's desire to be replenished. A few seconds of bliss - of being enveloped in a sense of warmth and security - wallowing in honey-glazed sunlight trickling through the window-panes of the pale white bedroom, filling the entire area with vibrance, saturation and colour; a golden hue which hugged everything with open arms - a golden hue which encapsulated them in open arms. The golden hue that was Phoenix Wright - a light identical to the hot sun which never quite died out unless you turned yourself away from it and denied it access.

"I don't really have a pointy nose, do I?"
"H-Huh?" The defence attorney frowned as the question was manually imprinted in his forehead's soft skin by unfamiliar lips, silently debating whether or not that particular query was supposed to be rhetorical.
"Do I have a pointy nose?" In an ideal world and scenario, Edgeworth had decided that his crush would instantly deny such a proposition or, in some way or another, refuse to admit that he attained an anomalously pointed nose and it had been hypothesised, by the prosecutor again, that this would somehow maintain the happy, carefree, bliss that he had attained from last night - and by kissing the attorney's forehead in the morning - for far longer. However, unfortunately, this conversation was not taking place in his idealistic simulation of the world - and real life was far more unpredictable than any amount of AI programming could ever hope to achieve.
"N-Not really..." A faint chuckle.

The forlorn look on the taller man's face instantly made Phoenix bite his tongue.

"No! I meant no!"
"I do, don't I?"
"N-No, of course not!" The neglected croissant that had been assigned to the spiky-haired man appeared to suddenly be disappearing at a much faster rate (presumably on account of the fact that the shorter man was attempting to fit far more than physically possible into his smallish mouth in order to feign some sort of excuse for not indulging in further details).
"A-Anyway! Why did you kiss my forehead? What did you mean about sex? And where am-"
"Listen, Phoenix," The defence attorney seemed to suddenly perk up once greeted by the sterner, more Edgeworth-like, tone of voice abruptly slicing his feeble attempts at interrogation in half, instantly falling silent.
"Even if you don't remember it, we came to my home last night and we had sex." The prosecutor took in another deep, shaky breath before continuing, as if he were trying to become accustomed to the spiky-haired man's rosy lips falling dreadfully lifeless, the bleak noise of a lack of noise filling the pair's eardrums with an unpleasant buzz.
"And, even if you don't remember it, you told me you loved me. You told me you loved me and I'm not going to forget that - I can't forget that - so you can't hold this against me. You can't go back on what you said."

Dulled blue eyes widened in horror, shock, fear - or any adjective of the like - as they were presented with the bitter bluntness that had been prosecutor Edgeworth's account of the previous evening.

"Edgeworth... I..." The shorter man's voice trailed off, his squeaky and unstable tone cracking partway through the third syllable.

He had never, ever, seen the silvery-haired man speak so desperately - so forcefully - in his entire life. The blazing passion in those sleek grey eyes almost brought the inferior spiky-haired man into a new realm every-time their eyes met - a realm that he was too cowardly to wish to explore; A realm which inspired nothing within him except a strange feeling of emptiness - of dread - which he was entirely submissive to.
"If it's consent that you're worried about, then stop fretting. I can assure you that I'm no rapist. You definitely wanted it as much as I did." The prosecutor defensively snapped, his right leg beginning to twitch slightly in a nervous, antsy, manner which did nothing but disturb his companion. The sun's rays shied away behind the clouds as Phoenix was jerked forwards from the shoulders by a pair of strong, muscular, arms.
"You can't go back on what you said."
"No,"
"You said you loved me."
"No."
"You said you loved me and you do! You love me! You can't change your mind now!"
"No."
"Please don't do this to me."
"No!"
"Don't do this to me."
"Get off of me! Stop it!"

Scalding, salty, tear-drops fell onto the defence attorney's forlorn face, mingling with his own and forming rivers upon his soft cheeks as he helplessly attempted to shove Edgeworth - who had conveniently pinned him down beneath him upon the bed - off of him to no avail; the taller man had already gripped both of his wrists despicably tightly so that he couldn't struggle much against the tidal waves that acted as a physical representation of frustration, heartbreak, anger, jealousy and sorrow, relentlessly falling upon his tender skin and tainting it with an everlasting mark, his pores rapidly absorbing fractions of these mingled emotions against his volition.