"Eye Contact" by deltachye

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tbh, I wrote this when I was delirious under a cold's fever. So it's kind of incoherent. But whatever, I'll publish it anyways. Is yolo still a thing? B^]
(inspired by the fact that Phoenix's eye colour changes with every picture of promo art. Is it blue? Black? Brown? make up your dang mind!!!)
He probably thought you were crazy since you kept staring at him.

You couldn't help it! Phoenix Wright was a mystery of his own. Not only did he manage to solve and win impossible cases, he was an expert of his craft at such a young age. He was a star, an ace, and...

His eyes also changed colour.

It wasn't too obvious at first. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light. Surely, they were hazel. You could even write an affidavit to that! But then, by next morning, they would shift to an icy blue. It wasn't as if you hadn't tried to take pictures and compare them, but it would be the same – black here, brown here, blue here.

What if the reason he was so good at turning around the hopeless was through... magic?

You gave a little gasp and looked away from his back, staring down at your desk with wide eyes. Were there such things as male witches? If there were, and he was one of them, would he curse you? What if he cursed the prosecutors!? Was that why he always managed to win?

God, what if the only reason you had fallen in love with him was because he had bewitched you?

It all made sense now!

"Ah, f...!"

His abrupt outburst and quieted string of swears brought your attention back up. Your heart flipped when you saw him – a master of magic...

"Are you okay?" you asked with concern, once you saw him holding a hand over an eye. To yourself, you wondered what colour it was.

"My contact got stuck somewhere–god! Ow ow ow ow ow..."

He feverishly mumbled under his breath while blinking rapidly. Your heart fell slightly. Contacts? Coloured contacts?

Ah. So maybe there was no witchery after all.

Your disappointment stopped you from getting up, but seeing him so pathetic made you sigh. If he had been a great magical being, he wouldn't even need contacts to correct poor vision. You were a little bitter, but felt more deflated at the complete smackdown of your theories.

"Here, let me help you..." you ignored his whiny cries as you smoothed back the little strand of hair that flopped over his forehead. You gently probed his eyelid, eventually sliding the small piece of plastic out. You stared at it as it balanced on your finger. Strangely enough, there wasn't any coloured tint on it at all...

"Thanks," he said weakly, grabbing a fistful of tissues and stuffing it over his eyes. He continued saying something about the troubles of blurry vision, and getting old, but you took no notice of his words. You stared at him intently.

So, what colour were his eyes?

When he pulled the tissue away and made eye contact with you, you swallowed and looked away guiltily. Stop staring at people! you chastised yourself. You couldn’t help but steal another peek, and you expected a confused expression–but he was smiling. No, grinning. He reached out for your wrist and pulled you closer, making you yelp as you fell onto him. The mysterious contact lens dropped to the floor as he murmured with a voice so breathy you hardly heard him,

"If you want to kiss me, you should really just say so."

Magic or not, you were definitely entranced.

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