One

They used to draw a perfect symmetry when they slept. Feet against feet, knee against knee, chest against chest. Hand in hand. It came all by itself when they once decided they wanted to spend their nights together. None of them had ever thought about it that much, but they loved to sleep that way. It made them feel safe, complete. However, the two of them had smiled a million times about how ironic their relationship was. They'd come a long way, that's for sure.

The 27th of February, at about three o'clock in the morning, she felt the symmetry had been broken and woke up from an unconsistent sleep. Though she could see there was nobody else in the bed, she extended her arm slowly and touched the empty space, as if she'd hope to feel a body her eyes couldn't show her. She felt the spot was warm, so for a few seconds she caressed the white sheets, looking nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

At a certain point she decided to get up. After all, an empty space was fine, but he was much better. And she knew where to find him. She felt shivers down her spine when her feet touched the cold floor, pulled back her short hair and got up. At that time of night it felt like a titanic task, she thought. She got out of the room and walked throught a dark corridor, only guided by the small yellow light that came out of a room at the end of it. The door was half open, so she pushed it, and while her eyes struggled with the sudden flash of light, she whispered in a tired voice.

« Phoenix ? ».

A man with dark hair and a small beard was sitting at a table, looking throught a big window that showed the inmense darkness of the city at night. There was a mug on the table, a white mug with a yellow smiley face. She could see the smoke coming out of it. Coffee, of course.

He gave her a big smile, as he always did, but his tired eyes made it look sad.

« You know it took you a year and a half to start calling me just Phoenix ? » he said, «before that, even when we started dating you used to call me by my full name ».

She sat down in front of him and didn't respond to that comment. She thought it was irrelevant, althought knew that wasn't absolutely the case. That was one of the things she'd learned from him : small things mattered. A smile, a laughter, a hug, telling someone they could count on you. Those things made a difference, most of the times. She understood that eventually, but never got it completely.

«You won't be able to sleep if you drink coffee at this time of night », she replied.

Phoenix smiled again. He loved her accent, and the way she looked when she just got out of bed.

« I can't sleep anyway », he answered.

« Another nightmare ?», she asked.

He just moved his head up and down, very slightly.

« It's the third this week », she said.

« No, it's just that the rest of the times I managed not to wake you up ».

« You mean you've had more of those dreams ?».

« Every night for the past six weeks, Franziska ».

Her blue eyes glittered in shock. She covered her mouth with her right hand, and did her best not to look worried. Phoenix found that lovable about her. Never show a hint of weakness, never let the other person think that you have feelings. There was a time when he hated her for that, but once he discovered what she was hiding underneath, he couldn't help but looking at her with tenderness in his eyes.

« Don't worry, I've been fine », he said after a short silence.

« No, you haven't. You haven't slept in six weeks, damn it. No wonder you look like a zombie », she replied, with anger in her voice.

«Well, you look gorgeous all the time. That should even things up a bit, make us look decent » he replied, smiling.

« Oh, be quiet. And how the hell did you manage not to wake me up for so long ? ».

« So you're upset because you didn't notice, aren't you ? », he replied, and when he saw the look on her face, he decided to take the matter seriously. « Most of the times I just lie there, looking at the roof, thinking about stuff. I only started getting up and making coffee this week. That's why you haven't noticed before ».

She seemed to be satisfied by the explanation. For a while, she just stared at him while he drunk his coffee. He looked fine, happy, but she knew how tired he was. In time, Phoenix had learned a very important rule for an attorney : never lose your smile, even in the darkest times. Ironically, when he learned it he had already lost his licence.

« Phoenix, it'll be three years tomorrow. Three years since it happened. Why would it come to you now ? It doesn't make any sense », she said at last.

« I know it doesn't. I don't know, maybe I've been too busy to think about it all this time… ».

« Don't be foolish. You've been thinking about it all the time for the last three years. ».

« How would you know that ? ». He looked surprised.

«Because I know, Phoenix Wright. I know you very well, and that's exactly the kind of things you'd do. Plus, I know you loved her».

Phoenix felt a deep pain when he heard this last sentence. He lowered his eyes and looked at his hands, holding the warm mug that still whispered words of smoke. Yes, he loved her, more than words could say. But then…it happened. And they took away the dearest friend he ever had.

« Hey… », he heard Franziska say. He looked up and saw her eyes staring directly at his. She had a serene, deep expression on her face. « Let's go back to bed », she said, « you need some rest ». She got up and held his hand. He followed her to the bedroom and lied close to her, as always, drawing the same symmetry they had been drawing for the last three years. Phoenix loved being with her, because he felt it was peaceful, despite her boiling personality. However, he did sense that, throught the years, her anger had turned into coldness, and her determination into serenity. Where did the kindness of her heart come from was a question he could never answer.

Slowly, he fell asleep, holding Franziska close to him, feet against feel, knee against knee, chest against chest, hand in hand.

Just before he fell into an infinite darkness, he remember a particular point of his nightmares. A woman's voice talking. She just called him once, in a frightened voice.

She just said one word.

Nick.