Work Text:
It was 5:32 am, twenty-eight minutes before Miles's alarm would blare loudly. Tiny ribbons of light cut through the curtains, which illuminated the room enough to identify large objects, while still keeping smaller household articles in the dark. Despite that, maneuvering wouldn't be a problem for the current owner of this residence since every commodity has it's specific place where it belongs, which has been ingrained in his mind. To avoid walking into anything has become part of his muscle memory.
In contrast to the lovely morning, Miles felt as if a storm was brewing inside of his head. He seats himself up on his king sized, luxuriously plush bed and reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose with his right hand. (He could've done that while laying down but it wouldn't be as dramatic). A soft whine escaped from the mass of fluff laying next to his expensive down pillow (imported from France), whom he stroked with his aforementioned hand.
"Oh pess...That man won't leave me be, would he? He'll follow me, even in my dreams. I should just focus on getting my work done, isn't that right pess?"
To this, Pess gave a tiny excited bark, which Miles took as a yes and fell into his well-calculated routine, bound for optimum speed while getting ready. Yes, the man made an entire time-table that he follows religiously. If you thought Miles was human enough to take his time while getting ready, especially since he roused earlier than usual, objection! You were clearly mistaken.
After he mentally ticked off all the monotonous tasks part of his daily morning routine, he allowed himself a breather. He sets his alarm off, that was due in ten minutes time, and proceeds with the last step, which is also his favourite. Standing by the window, with a Pess nestled by his side, he takes out his phone to select the contact that sits atop all the other dialed one's. It rings once, twice then, ~click~
"Hello father, how has your day been?" Miles uttered with an earnestness that never dies out, no matter how many times he may call his father, every single day, since he left for a case in Europe. It's as if Mr.Edgeworth came back from the dead and they're making up for lost time... How unusual considering he never left Miles's side, ever.
"Akh," responded Mr.Greggory, clearly frustrated, "The case that I'm working on is taking longer than usual, but your dad isn't a quitter Miles." he chuckled lightheartedly. "Wait, Isn't this the time you usually get out of bed? You sound as if you've been awake for quite a while? Is there a problem Miles?"
Miles wished that his father wasn't so perceptive. He thought about lying his way out, but knew that would be as useless as expecting Gumshoe to do his job right. Instead he turned the line of questioning around.
"Father, when you first met my mother.. Err, What was it that you felt?"
He must have noticed his father's hesitation on the other side of the line, because he anxiously blurted out, "You uh... sorry you don't have to answer that.. I-"
"I felt, admiration..." Gregory cut in. "The first time I saw her was on our university's stage. She was presenting her thesis on 'The positive impacts of music therapy for patients with brain injuries'-" He gives out a tiny laugh that Miles would have missed if his ears weren't glued to the phone. Gregory Edgeworth continues,
"Sounds pretty boring right? Yet I still remember everything about it...Only because she presented it so well Miles.. She was amazing. Always has been, especially with words. I don't recall blinking once through-out the entire speech...People used to joke about how stupid it was for me to get impressed by some 'lecture'. It wasn't the lecture Miles, it was her. Later, I approached your mother to ask about the topic, taking a cup of tea with me which I could give to her. Y'know, to leave a 'gentlemanly' impression. Only to-"
"-Trip over and spill the tea on her...yes, I know this part very well pap- uh...Father." Miles attempts to hide his blunder with a sheepish laugh. But nothing escapes his father now, does it? He hears a full hearty cackle on the other end of the line. Miles pouted at this, unaware that he was doing so.
Gregory marked the completion of his outburst with a heavy exhale. Then, he told his son,
" I blame your mother for your formal side. I put on that mask in court out of respect, but you! You've got it permanently glued on!" just like before, he fell into another round of cackles and chortles alike.
Now what would any child do to escape getting badgered by their single-dad? The most mature and logical solution obviously. The 'work' excuse.
(It's not an excuse if it's true narrator, keep quite! )
"Well if you're done treating me like some punchline I won't get since I'm 'not a father yet ', I'm off to work."
"Okay okayy... I'll stop...I get it, you don't like spending time with your old man. I know it all, Miley." Gregory tried to say, in the most realistic, faux-pity voice he could muster (clearly failing, as he tried to muffle another set of laughs). This act almost, would've stopped Miles from going to work. But the use of that damned nickname combined with the fact, that the person we're talking about is, well...Miles. Not even a jammed elevator could stop him, he'll just glare at the metal doors till they melt.
....
Or, he'll just subconsciously pout at them.
(Narrator, if you don't remain silent...Not even my father will be able to save me from getting a 'guilty verdict' for the murder I'm about to commit.)
"Father, I'm serious. I need to go now. I'll call you tomorrow at some better time. Oh and..best of luck with your case father. I know you'll find the truth...You always do..." Miles smiles to himself. His father may test his wits every now and then (that's just because he's the only one who has the 'Mock a Miles for free' pass), but that doesn't remove the fact that Miles loves his father dearly, he wouldn't trade him for anyone in the world.
"I will son, I'll make you proud." Gregory said in a way that made Miles burst with a deep fondness .
"There's no need. I already am, Papa." And with that, Miles ends the call and walks away from a sleeping Pess, nestled beside his fancy louis vuitton shoes.
(If she likes them so much, I should just buy her a pair and get rid of the bed she rarely sleeps on).
He patted his tiny companion's soft head one last time, before he headed to work. Gently, so as not to stir her awake. Hoping that, she wouldn't miss him all that much the entire time he's gone.
"If only I could snooze away my thoughts like you, hmm Pess?"
~The end~
