(Did, did he just call me sweetie? AGAIN?)
As Phoenix eyed the very pink Max Galactica, the door banged open behind him.
"Excuse me," the voice was polite yet curt with irritation.
Phoenix knew that voice. But that was wrong. That voice was supposed to be...gone. He moved his head slowly to look as a vision in magenta strode roughly past towards the glass. Max Galactica smiled charmingly, throwing cards.
"Excuse me," the voice snapped again. "But I think you will find that he is MY sweetie."
At this, Miles Edgeworth turned round and grabbed a very surprised Phoenix by the tie, pulling him up. Phoenix vaguely heard Maya squeak beside him but wasn't really paying attention. Something was taking up all of his concentration; something that was fuchsia clad and smelt good and that was kissing his lips like a ferocious demon.
"There, you see," Miles glared, turning back to Max as he dropped Phoenix into the chair again. "My sweetie."
"Oh, that is just FABulous!" Max crooned. "Except that I already have a sweetie pie princess."
"I beg your pardon," Miles folded his arms.
Maya was whispering furiously to Phoenix who was too dazed to speak. He'd tried once or twice to form the words but the syllables that had come out convinced him it was best to keep quiet.
"Yes, my little Regina," Max beamed. "We're getting married. She is the sweetest little sweetie pie princess I ever saw."
Miles' face was dark red.
"I, I see," he growled, glaring at the floor. "Well, then." He cleared his throat. "Good day."
With that, he turned and walked out of the door.