Chapter Text
March 31, 1:09 AM
Miles Edgeworth's Office
It is late at night, and Miles Edgeworth has just about lost it. He stares down at the work he is now catching up on from his break. A little voice in his head tells him, “you are a foolish fool who foolishly brought this foolishness upon yourself.” He can’t say the voice is wrong. He just wishes she would be nicer about it.
The work is catching up to him and all he can think about is the next time he will see Wright.
The truth is, he is unlikely to see the man anytime soon. He is due to go back abroad in the next month, and none of his other cases line up with Wright’s. Which is a ridiculous problem to have, yet here he is.
He finds himself face to face with the unnecessary feelings that had been brewing about the defense attorney for a while, threatening to overflow due to Maya’s words from earlier.
“I don’t think I’m the person you should be saying this to.” Her words reverberate in his brain. Maya makes it sound so easy, like it’s just the matter of picking up his phone and giving Wright a ring, but that’s not fair to him. Wright deserves better.
He sets his pen down, pushing back against the chair with a deep sigh. His eyes glance up at the ceiling, which is a continuation of the beige color of his walls.
This reminds him of another thing Maya had said to him. “Have you ever looked at the underside of your desk?”
Perhaps it is ridiculous, but certainly not more ridiculous than the thoughts running through his head right now. Miles pushes back his chair and crouches down. When it is clear to him that he won’t fit under his desk like that, he changes tactics, instead choosing to lie down on the floor and slide himself under the desk.
It works, even if he does snag on a loose nail on the floor.
He looks up, and at first, all he sees is wood. He silently chides himself for being so immature, readying himself to sit back up, when he spots something on the far right corner. He pushes himself a little closer and–
“I’m going to kill Larry Butz!” he thinks to himself.
It is a drawing of the three of them—Miles, Phoenix, and Larry—recognizable only due to their being labeled, with the inscription ‘Best Friend 4Ever.’ Miles tries to scrub it away using the cuff of his blazer, but he only succeeds in pilling the fabric.
The imbecile used permanent marker.
How it even got there, Miles doesn’t know, but he leaves himself a mental note to review Gumshoe’s salary for this mistake, and perhaps keep a better lock on his door. He wouldn’t want anyone to sneak in again, after all.