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Phoenix found himself easily distracted these days, and that didn't bode well for his future job prospects and general state of well being.
He mused that he had reason to be hopeful, given that Kristoph was behind bars. If his plans for the jurist system went ahead without hitch, there was a good chance he could get back to lawyering again. After an age, his blue suit would finally see the light of day.
He shook his head and signed. Daydreaming like this was counterproductive. There was still a good amount of work to be done before he could get back behind the defense bench. If only Apollo had accepted his offer, things would have been so much easier. The boy had potential, and Phoenix would be lying if he said he didn't see some of his own fire reflected in those clear, hazel eyes.
Apollo took up a lot of errant thoughts. Perhaps if he were a better man, he would feel ashamed, but Phoenix found that his sense of morality had greyed in recent years. The age gap was significant, but it wasn't as though he were a child.
He still thought about the moment outside the courtroom, when Apollo had punched him. The blow had been a strong one. If he hadn't been expecting it, Phoenix would have fallen to his knees.
Instead, he'd stumbled gracelessly, before righting himself with a hand against the wall. The sharp facets of Apollo's bangle had caught against his lip, and a dull trickle of blood made its way down his chin. Ears ringing, he'd laughed as Apollo glared at him, disgust apparent in the curl of his mouth.
'I can't believe I looked up to you once.'
The words cut into him more than any kind of blade or malicious newsprint, and they continued to echo still.
I can't believe I looked up to you once.
Looking at the state of him now, Phoenix can't believe it either.
***
In the end, it's a tumble down the stairs that brings Apollo to him. It's a testament to his character, the fact that he came to his aid despite their blackened history. Phoenix knew a majority of that fault lay with him.
He was also aware of the rejections, curtly penned with a fascimile of apology. His intimate acquaintance with unsteady employment aside, Phoenix knew that Apollo would be facing a dearth of offers from firms. Loyalty was favoured more than honesty these days, in the dark age of the law. A lawyer prosecuting his own boss was a bit much to swallow, when most greenhorns would be salivating for an opportunity to represent clients, guilty or not.
Phoenix liked that quality of Apollo's, among other things. His brashness was refreshing, his method of conversation pointed and direct. There was no beating about the bush with him. He told you what he thought, and what he didn't was usually apparent in his eyes, or the shape of his mouth.
After having his career ruined by lies and treachery, Phoenix found himself rather desperate for Apollo's company, and maybe, perhaps, a little of his affection.
He wasn't sure whether the feeling was entirely reciprocated.
***