[ Wherever they are, it does not matter. They both feel it, how their sternum's expand with each heavy inhale they take when they're in each other's company.
Itachi had always believed that Edgeworth was dashing in pink. A roman goddess dolled up like a glam-rocker, or a giant pink candy heart. But Itachi knew none of these things, he only knew that his voice would cease in his throat and the air that they shared would suffocate him.
When they met, they met in private. And when Edgeworth is in his line of vision, Itachi only makes languid steps. A low exhale coupled with a hand going through his hair.
-- And he places a hand on Edgeworth's shoulder, leaning in close to let a silent breathe press against his cravat clothed neck... ]
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Itachi had always believed that Edgeworth was dashing in pink. A roman goddess dolled up like a glam-rocker, or a giant pink candy heart. But Itachi knew none of these things, he only knew that his voice would cease in his throat and the air that they shared would suffocate him.
When they met, they met in private. And when Edgeworth is in his line of vision, Itachi only makes languid steps. A low exhale coupled with a hand going through his hair.
-- And he places a hand on Edgeworth's shoulder, leaning in close to let a silent breathe press against his cravat clothed neck... ]