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Arriving in Labyrinthia had been appropriately exhausting. Both Professor Layton and Luke were glad that Mrs. Eclaire had given them a place to sleep, even if it really just amounted to a couple of cots in the corner of her attic. Phoenix and Maya had both been here longer than they had, after all, so it was understandable that when they all retired, the two suspiciously-American-sounding individuals returned to their own room while Mrs. Eclaire set up a makeshift sleeping area for the two gentlemen.
"I wish I had more to offer you, but it's such short notice," she murmured, fluffing the meager pillows Layton and Luke were allotted.
Layton simply tipped his hat. "I assure you, we are most grateful for what we've been given. There's no need to worry about us."
Mrs. Eclaire simply smiled. "Well, I'll leave you two to it then--please do your best to sleep well for me, all right?"
"Of course." Luke had already flopped onto his cot, having long since forgotten his manners, and was practically snoring already. The baker and the professor shared a gentle laugh--kids would be kids, after all--before he was left to his own devices. He delicately sat on the edge of his cot and removed his hat and jacket, folding the latter carefully and setting it aside. While he couldn't deny how tired he felt, somehow he couldn't bring himself to lie down. Everything about the town had him on edge, he had to admit. Certainly no harm would befall him while he was simply resting in the humble home of a small-town baker, but there was something decidedly puzzling about the town that he couldn't ignore.
Luke really had begun to snore, and Layton turned to look at him. He hadn't even bothered to take his hat off, and it lay askew on his pillow. He was barely even covered by his blanket as well, prompting the professor to stand up and tuck him in. Perhaps if Luke was awake, he'd protest the action, since he was old enough to fall asleep of his own accord... But as it was, he simply snuggled into the blanket and continued sleeping.
Layton smiled. He should be sleeping right along with him, and sure enough he felt the tug of sleep at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to lie down. Since he was already standing, he decided he would fetch himself a glass of water--hopefully, that would calm his nerves some.
As he headed downstairs, he passed the room Phoenix and Maya were assigned to. He could hear voices chatting from within, and he smiled to himself. Those two certainly had a special sort of friendship; he could tell even from having listened to them talk for just a moment. However, he heard one word that stuck out above all the rest.
"...professor..."
It was a delicate, feminine voice, followed by a nigh-imperceptible laugh from the decidedly more masculine one. Perhaps the laugh would have been even more imperceptible if Layton hadn't found himself edged close to the door, listening intently to the conversation within. Eavesdropping was not really the most gentlemanliest thing to find oneself doing late at night, but he just couldn't help himself. His ears were burning, and maybe these two knew something he didn't. He stood as still as he could, keeping his breath low and even.
"Don't laugh! I could just listen to his voice all day, I'm serious..." The voice must have been Maya's.
"I just didn't know you had such a thing for British accents, that's all."
"I didn't either. But like, I'm not even sure it's just the accent. His voice is just so warm and... growly."
"Growly? You've gotta be kidding."
"No! Just listen to him the next time he talks! He's all, 'I'm Professor Layton, and this is how my voice sounds.'"
Heat crept along the professor's neck and spread into his cheeks. There was only laughter on the other side of the door.
"Wow, Maya. Didn't know you were so good at impressions."
"Shut up! Like you could do any better."
"Mm... How's this?"
Maya squealed with delight. "Ah, Nick! Do that again, you're so good at that!"
Following this was a stream of low mururs from Mr. Wright and a series of giggles and gasps from Miss Fey. As time went on, Layton felt increasingly uncomfortable listening to this. It could barely be called a conversation anymore, with one voice having been reduced to pleading noises and the other being so low and constant the he couldn't tell for sure what was happening.
The next word he was able to make out was a decidedly frustrated "Fuck," from Maya, and then an equally desperate "Touch me," and that was when he decided that enough was enough. He could never unhear those sounds, never unexperience that moment, and he was going to have to live with himself knowing that a young lawyer and his cohort did unspeakable things while imitating his own voice.
Layton returned to his cot. The glass of water wasn't worth it anymore.
During their adventure in Labyrinthia, the professor was able to take his mind off of the events of that first night. There was so much to take in, after all; so much to ponder and analyze and pick apart until he finally understood everything. It wasn't until the boat ride back home that he was even reminded of such when Maya spoke up softly.
"Hey, Professor... You don't think we could ever watch one of your lectures, do you?"
The biting chill of the wind made for a nice contrast when Layton felt that unmistakable heat spread across his face.