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Miles Edgeworth thumped down the stairs, grazing the railing with his heart pounding through his chest. Only when he heard his father chuckle at his impulsivity did he slow down and take the steps one at a time, face scorching. He wasn’t about to admit to his father that he was excited for the guest who had just rapped on his door. No, that would be improper of him.
He disregarded the fact that he always began with such a childish reaction, before remembering his morals and carefully answering the door. It was always the same process, when Phoenix Wright came knocking on the Edgeworths’ door.
Miles opened the door, willing away the giddiness bubbling in his belly.
“Hello, Phoenix.” He could hardly stop his mouth from twitching into a smile, so he let it. “How are…?” Miles trailed off when he noticed the immovable frown on his best friend’s face. “Phoenix?”
“Meeting in your room?” Phoenix’s eyes flickered upstairs, before focusing on Miles once more, urgently. “It’s about…” he turned his head either direction, craning his neck to search for potential eavesdroppers, “...erious-say ama-dray.”
Serious drama? Miles felt himself scowl after deciphering the pig-latin. What could Phoenix have done this time to land himself in enough trouble that he ran to Miles?
The silver-haired boy glanced back and forth, then grabbed Phoenix’s hand and determinedly dragged him upstairs. It was a decidedly awkward grip, but he concluded there wasn’t any time to waste. As they hurried up, he ignored the flush of his cheeks accompanying his father’s quiet chuckle emerging from the kitchen.
Miles tentatively closed his bedroom door and pivoted to confront his spiky-haired friend. Phoenix had already face-planted on his bed, whining incoherently into the bedsheets.
“Your complaints are muffled by the quilt, Phoenix.” He piped up, hopping onto the bed and tapping Phoenix’s shoulder.
Phoenix responded with a loud groan followed by a tangled web of words warped ridiculously by the quilt. Miles could hardly hold back a giggle as he tugged on Phoenix’s shirt. “Come on, sit up.”
Phoenix finally rolled over, spikes in disorder, staring up at Miles’ ceiling fan with the most dejected expression. “My life is over.”
Miles’ brows twitched as he peered down at Phoenix, blocking the other boy’s vision of the fan. “No it’s not.” He looked thoughtful. “Unless you have details that can provide a particular reason. Otherwise, then all you have is just a claim.” He preened. “That’s what Father says.”
“ Oh .” Phoenix didn’t drop his dramatic flare for a beat. “ I have a reason .”
Miles felt his heart drop. “Wh-what do you mean? Are you okay?!” He felt himself slowly spiraling into panic as he pondered what could be wrong with his friend. What if he’s committed a crime, or is injured, or has a terminal illness-
His frantic intrusive thoughts came to a halt as two hands grabbed Miles’ shoulders and shook him violently.
“MILES.” Phoenix’s tone was insistent, almost dumbfounded. “LARRY KISSED A GIRL IN OUR CLASS TODAY.” His eyes were blown out of proportion, Miles taking a moment to internally admire his friend’s heterochromia: the electricity from his striking blue eye, the shimmering warmth from his brown eye. When the spiky-haired boy first came over and Miles got a good glimpse of them, he had stayed up throughout the night, enraptured, researching the peculiar condition. Understanding heterochromia was one thing, but he still found himself getting lost in the gorgeous uniquity of his best friend’s irises.
“MILES!” Phoenix yelled, snapping Miles back into reality. “Didja hear what I said?!”
“Um. I heard.” The silver haired boy cocked his head in confusion. “When? I would’ve seen.” The only time Miles hadn’t been with Phoenix was during lunch and recess, where he was staying in the classroom for an extra credit assignment- he was excited to come home and share it with his father, as he had poured everything into this particular essay- so he ate his food inside today. By elimination, Miles could conclude-
“It happened during lunch, when you were inside.” Phoenix clarified. Miles felt a swell of pride at his deduction. “But he literally just walked right up to Camilla and just started talking with her!”
Miles tapped his chin. “Was he flirting with her?”
Phoenix nodded gravely. Terribly, no doubt. Typical Butz. “Yeah. And then one thing led to another, and they were kissing . It’s so dumb.” He crossed his arms, eyes blazing.
“Why are you so angry?” Miles prompted, scooting closer on the bed.
Phoenix huffed. “I dunno. It was just dumb.”
Miles raised a brow, toying with his silver bangs. “...Judging from your earlier statement where you said that your life was ending…” His eyes widened at the realization, pointing an accusatory finger at Phoenix. “You’re jealous of Larry Butz!”
Phoenix’s eyes darkened, growing in size. Miles swiped away the tingling blush surely appearing on his face, then pretended he was meticulously stroking his chin to cover it up. “I’m right, aren’t I?” A smirk had twitched onto the nine-year-old’s face, his gray eyes gleaming in triumph as he confronted his friend.
Phoenix opened his mouth to protest, then slackened. “ I’m Wright.” He mumbled. “ Phoenix Wright.” He shot a toothy grin at Miles, who gave him a playful shove to the shoulder. This time, he failed to stifle his giggle.
“You’re an idiot.” He muttered. He had stopped trying to erase the visible, obvious pink tinge to his cheeks. “But I am right- uh, correct.” He modified, scowling at Phoenix, who blinded him with the same crescent-moon smile. “You are jealous. That is the reason as to why this is such a big deal for you.”
Phoenix’s jaw dropped. “It’s a kiss . Of course it’s a big deal!”
Miles’ lip quivered, bangs swaying as he cocked his head slightly to consider this. “I don’t… see how it is.” He mumbled.
Phoenix flopped back over on the bed. “But it’s so powerful .”
“Are you talking about fictional fairy tales?” Miles laid down beside him. He wondered what Phoenix was staring at on his ceiling that was so interesting. “But they’re ‘fictional’. Meaning, ‘not real’?”
Phoenix sighed. “I know what fiction is.”
Miles turned his head to Phoenix, feeling the rush of quilt against his neck. “Then why is a kiss of all things so significant?”
Phoenix’s eyes dazzled brilliantly. “‘Cause it just… it means a lot, y’know?” He turned his head to meet Miles’ eyes, face bright and passionate.
“N-no, I don’t know.” Miles averted his gaze. His father’s assistant talked about romance a lot. Miles didn’t care much for the concept, but Greg always listened thoughtfully to Raymond’s musings, whereas if Miles were nearby he would promptly direct the conversation back to the case they were deliberating.
He found Raymond Shields quite annoying, but his father seemed to love the quirky assistant. Miles tried to avoid him, but Raymond always found an excuse to greet him.
Phoenix would like Mr. Shields. “You sound like my father’s assistant.”
Phoenix cocked his head. “Mr. Edgeworth has a partner?”
Miles felt a flush of jealousy. “ I help Father. But, um, yes.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Shields is always going on about romance as well.”
Phoenix threw his hands up. “See?! That guy gets it!”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Romance is insignificant in the grand scheme of things. A kiss falls under that, so it is also not important.”
“It is too important!”
“How?”
“Well,” Phoenix had turned his attention back to the ceiling, voice hushed with wonder. “Well, like, a kiss means love. And- well, it’s love, and romance, and something you can’t just share with anyone.” His voice had grown bitter.
“But it’s still a romant-”
“Miles, just play along, please?”
He huffed, but decided to postpone arguing the validity of romance. “So… you believe that because Larry has received a kiss and you haven’t… that makes you inferior?”
“Not really? I mean, maybe? Larry has a chance, now.”
“I don’t see how lack of such an act can mean inferiority.”
Phoenix shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just- never been kissed before.”
Miles sat up. He had been kissed before; on the head, by his father. Maybe it was a symbol of love. His cheeks burned at the notion of Phoenix being correct. But, he did enjoy kisses, especially from Greg. Miles briefly wondered if he should give his father more kisses, if this was an appropriate representation of his love for the older man.
“Kisses are common, Phoenix. My father kisses me on the head, every night.” He felt a little silly admitting such a fact, but told himself it was relevant to the discussion.
Phoenix sucked in his cheeks, and Miles could detect a smidge of jealousy. “I mean, I guess. But a kiss on the lips .” He stared intently at Miles, who could feel himself stiffen. He hoped Phoenix couldn’t hear the insistent pounding of his heart.
Phoenix repeated his previous shrug. “Besides, I haven’t been kissed by my parents at all.” He laughed, but Miles winced at the hidden pain in his voice. “Guess it’s not their thing, or something.”
Miles swallowed. “On that note… what is the difference between a kiss on the head or a kiss on the lips? Both the former and the latter are lip-touches to the face.” This was proving to be a more puzzling issue than he had originally anticipated.
“It’s a kiss on the lips.”
“But what’s so special about that?”
“It’s a kiss on the lips.”
“Phoenix, I need an actual reason !”
Phoenix met Miles’ gaze with a huff, anxiously running fingers through his spikes. “Well, uh, it’s like you said, Miles.” Phoenix pursed his lips, presenting his index finger. “A kiss to the head is lips-to-head.” His expression grew serious as he tapped his lips, then his forehead. “But a kiss to the lips? That’s lips-to- lips .” He tapped his lips twice for emphasis.
Miles’ eyes widened at such an epiphany. Somehow, Phoenix had used his own logic against him. “Hm. Well, maybe societal pressures make it seem like it has more meaning than that of a lips-to-head or even lips-to-cheek.”
“Suss… societal pressures…?” Phoenix seemed lost.
“Oh. Um, I mean that people like to think kissing on the lips has more value than a kiss anywhere else on the face?” Miles raised his shoulders. “So there’s probably nothing interesting about it.”
“But the other person is kissing, too. So it’s like a double kiss.”
Miles blinked. “You can kiss someone on the lips but they don’t kiss back.”
“How?”
Miles looked distressed. “I guess they… just… don’t pucker?”
Phoenix huffed. “But they’re still touching lips.” He pointed out, voice dragging out into a whine.
Miles mimicked his huff. “That doesn’t mean that the other person is a part of the kiss- since they didn’t kiss back and probably weren’t aware of what was happening.”
Phoenix sniffed. “I guess so. Maybe.”
“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Phoenix cracked another toothy grin. “Yeah! Is that okay with your dad?”
Miles slid off the bed. “I can check, but I hope so.” He left Phoenix in his room and hurried down the stairs, where Gregory Edgeworth busied himself in the kitchen.
“Father?” Miles smiled nervously when his father’s brown eyes met his. Miles always felt comforted by his soft brown irises, the visible crinkle around his eyes when he smiled.
“Miles. There you are.” Greg’s rumbling voice reverberated through the kitchen, but it wasn’t in the least bit intimidating. “You disappeared when you got home from class, immediately retreating to your room.”
“I… I had homework to finish.”
“Understandable.” Like father like son, the older gentleman’s lip twitched. “Or was it because you knew Phoenix was available this afternoon?”
Miles felt his face flush and was horrified when Greg let out a small chuckle. “Calm down, son. It’s nice to see you with a friend, so you have my full support.” Greg left his cooking to ruffle Miles’ hair. “I wanted to ask, however, how school was?”
Miles melted into his father’s touch. “It was fine. I… I wrote another extra credit assignment, Father. I put all of our research and effort into it!”
Greg’s eyes shone like stars. “I’m proud, Miles. You’re quite accomplished.”
“I can read it to you, if you want?” Miles’ voice raised in question, and he flushed at the “cute” uncertainty of what was supposed to be a statement.
Greg didn’t seem to notice. “I’d love that.” His eyes flickered upstairs. “Yet, I feel that was not the reason you emerged from your room to come downstairs.”
Miles blinked. “O-oh. No, that’s not all.” How did his father know these things?
Greg tended to the stovetop for a moment. “What did you want to ask me, Miles?”
“C-could Phoenix perhaps stay for dinner?”
The older man tilted his head and smiled, glasses shimmering. “I knew I made extra for a reason.” He then winked, to Miles’ horror. “He can sleep over, if he wants.”
Miles’ eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“It’s not a school night. I don’t see why not.”
“Th-th-thank you, Father…” The embarrassed boy mumbled.
“Raymond is coming over for dinner later, and he is staying to discuss our case.”
“Our case?” Miles parroted.
Greg chuckled. “Yes. Therefore, I doubt you’ll have any interruptions.” Greg gave another knowing smile to his son. Miles could already feel his cheeks burning with shame. “Don’t get into too much mischief.”
Mischief? Miles could only hope his father was referring to Phoenix. He loved his friend, but he could be a little much sometimes. Still, Miles defended, he was more polite than Larry was.
“D-Does Mr. Shields know-?”
“Don’t worry,” Greg added in some spices and it only made the kitchen smell more heavenly. Miles’ mouth started to water, but he wiped it away with his sleeve. He was not a slob, and did not drool like one. “I’ll keep Raymond busy. Unless,” his glasses lenses flickered, “you wanted Phoenix to meet him?”
“No.” Miles blurted, then corrected himself. “Th-that’s okay, Father, thank you.” Miles shivered at the thought of Raymond running at the two of them with outstretched arms. The man was an adult; why he couldn’t at least act like it was beyond Miles.
“Alright, then.” His father gave a single nod.
“W-we'll be down for d-dinner shortly.” Miles sputtered, before retreating up the stairs with a squeak. He opened his bedroom door to see an expectant Phoenix.
“So?” Eager, alert and mismatched eyes met his own.
“Um. You can ask your parents if you can stay the night, too, if you want.”
Phoenix beamed. “Dude, Mr. Edgeworth is the coolest.” Phoenix had said it more to himself, but Miles felt entitled to answer anyway.
“I know.”
Phoenix continued smiling, and Miles could just drown in his friend’s eyes. He eventually looked away, blushing profusely.
“Are… are you going to ask your parents?” He tugged on his bangs.
Phoenix shrugged, flopping back over onto Miles’ bed. “They’re fine with it. I asked ‘em before I came over, just in case.”
Miles could tell by the way his voice quivered slightly that he was lying. But Miles knew from experience that Phoenix’s parents generally didn’t care where he disappeared to. With a giggle he realized his father probably had more rules for Phoenix than his own parents did for him.
“What’s so funny?” His voice was shrill, defensive as he sat up.
“Oh. Nothing.”
Phoenix squinted at him, and then pouted. He crossed his arms over his chest and flopped back onto Miles’ bed.
“You don’t seem to be in better spirits.” Miles felt his brow quiver as he peered down at his scowling friend.
“I’m not.” Phoenix grumbled.
“At least you’re staying for the night.”
“I guess.”
Miles laid down next to him, the two boys resuming watching the ceiling fan rotate in silence. Other than his father’s whistles and the sizzling of dinner cooking muffled by the walls, the Edgeworth residence was eerily quiet. Miles frowned.
“I still don’t see what is so special about being kissed.”
Phoenix groaned. “It just is.”
Miles echoed his groan. “People kiss when they’re older. You’ll have plenty of opportunities when we get older.”
“I’m not gonna.”
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not.”
Miles sat up with a start. “Yes you are! Stop saying otherwise!”
“No I’m NOT!” Phoenix joined him sitting up.
“Okay, well, so what?! There’s nothing remotely interesting about kissing someone on the lips!” Miles insisted.
“How would you know?” Phoenix’s persistent eyes demanded an answer.
“I… um. Th-there just isn’t.” Miles glared at his quilt, focusing intensely on the way it rippled as he gripped the fabric.
“You haven’t been kissed either.”
“Y-yes I have.”
“By your dad doesn’t count .”
“Y-yes it does!”
“But on the lips .” There it was, his intense gaze again.
“You’re obsessed.” Miles scoffed.
“Maybe… maybe we should try it?”
Miles felt his heart lurch. He turned in shock towards Phoenix, whose face had never looked so serious.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.
“U-um. N-nevermind-” Phoenix’s eyes darted away in haste.
“W-wait.” Miles reached to touch his arm. “Maybe… you’re right.”
Phoenix was too in awe to consider applying his favorite name pun.
“This may be the only way to truly understand.” Miles’ eyes flickered to Phoenix’s lips, retracting his hand. “Besides, we’re… we’re friends! We have a strong bond.”
“Y-yeah.” Phoenix’s eyes were fixated on his own lips. Miles self-consciously wet his lips and looked away, blushing. “Best friends.”
“So. It should have the same effect, by default.” He mumbled. “Since I care about you, and you care about me. Won’t this be the closest we’ll get?” Miles turned back to Phoenix as he waited for a response.
Phoenix nodded, eyes still blown out of proportion. “O-okay. On the… count of three, then?”
Miles hesitated, then gave a short nod. “Yes.”
“One…” Phoenix began.
“Two…”
On three, the two boys hastily leaned forward and pressed their lips together for a brief second, before each pulling away with sputters and hot faces.
Both pairs of eyes were wide with surprise. Miles felt his lips move to say something, anything to break the shocked silence. But before he could, he heard the signature sound of his father’s voice calling them down to dinner.
Phoenix stood up and hurried down without another word. Miles, feeling the onslaught of tears threatening to stream down his cheeks, walked after with his head hung low.
Had he jeopardized their friendship? And if so- should Phoenix be blamed as well? After all, it was his idea.
Miles shook his head. His father would be disappointed. It was a defense attorney’s job to defend the innocent.
He scowled through his tears. Phoenix was not innocent in the given situation.
He trudged downstairs and anxiously anticipated the concerned look on his father’s face when he saw his stupid puffy eyes and running nose.
“Good evening, boys.”
“H’lo, Mr. Edgeworth.” Phoenix mumbled, climbing into his designated seat at the Edgeworth’s dinner table.
Miles knew if he began talking, he’d burst into tears, so he, too, assumed his position at the table. He peeked up to sneak a look at his father’s expression, only to be met with those brown eyes, glittering with concern from behind his glasses frames.
“Miles? Are you okay?” The gentle tone to his voice made Miles want to run to his father and cry in his arms. But Father can’t know. I must remain professional.
Greg, justifiably so, was puzzled by the scene laid out before him. Miles could tell by the furrow in his brow, the intense look on his face. He’s utilizing logic.
He plated up dinner and placed it in front of the boys, who couldn’t help but perk up a little at the smell of a home-cooked meal. “Miles,” Greg asked casually, “would you like to hear about how our case is going?”
Our case was Greg’s secret weapon. Our case was currently Miles’ favorite topic of discussion. Nearly an entire year in, and the case still hadn’t come to a conclusion. Investigations were on-going, and as were trials, which Miles would watch with awe from the gallery.
His head lifted and turned towards his father, silver bangs bouncing. Greg chuckled and reiterated that day’s investigation while Miles ate his dinner. He wasn’t entirely sure of the contents on his plate- it was some kind of red meat, perhaps that of a cow, with a medley of assorted steamed vegetables- but it was quite delicious. Maybe one day he and his father could cook dinner together, but for now, the two of them were hooked on desserts in Piece of Cake , thanks to our case.
The show was on hiatus after Jeff Masters’ arrest, but Greg would often play reruns that they would watch together. They even attempted one day to make pâte à choux, which were delicious cream puffs. They both had major bellyaches after ingesting half the batter. It was honestly very fun. Although Miles would never neglect his schoolwork for simple pastries.
To Miles’ surprise, Phoenix seemed interested in the investigation as well. Miles wondered if when he got older, maybe Phoenix could come with him on some of his investigations. Phoenix already claimed he was going to show up to all of Miles’ trials and cheer him on. Miles had explained that he wouldn’t be allowed to cheer, but the thought regardless made him beam with pride. He would be an amazing defense attorney. Well, according to his father and Phoenix. But they were all of the support he needed. Unless, of course…
Miles felt dread. What if Phoenix was so humiliated by the kiss that he didn’t want to talk to Miles anymore? Would he even bother being Miles’ friend?
He finished his dinner and mumbled that he was heading upstairs. Greg watched him go worriedly, and Miles quickly glared at the stairs instead of the concern etched on his father’s face. And he didn’t dare look at Phoenix.
He closed his door and let the tears stream down his face. He had just lost his best friend, all because of a stupid kiss. Kisses were dumb. They were awful and Miles didn’t like them anymore. All they do is cause conflict, he concluded.
But then he’d remember the bad nights. The scary nightmares. They were rare, but Miles woke up traumatized and ran into his father’s room, ashamed. To his surprise, Greg would always welcome him with open arms, assuring him that everything would be okay with a gentle kiss to the top of his son’s head. And in that one moment, everything was okay. The darkness had melted away, leaving a warm glowing light of comfort as Miles snuggled with his father. Time stood still, and Miles could hear the rhythmic beating of his father’s heart, the slow full breaths as his chest rose and fell. Miles was safe from harm, all because of that kiss.
Miles face-planted into his bed. That may be so, but it didn’t change the fact that the kiss happened. Why? Why was Phoenix so hung up on being kissed? Because it made him feel safe and warm inside, perhaps, but why specifically on the lips?
Did Phoenix want to sabotage their friendship? Was their entire relationship fake?
“SIGNAL RED!” Two hands clutched his shoulders tightly and Miles squawked in terror, whipping around.
Phoenix howled with laughter. “Aw, man! I got you so good!”
Miles shoved his shoulder. “Wh-what are you doing here?!”
Phoenix stared at him as if he had two heads. “Um… because I’m sleeping over?”
“You are?”
“Yeah.”
Miles mulled this over. “B-but I thought… a-after what happened…”
“No way, dude!” Phoenix wrapped him into a hug. “You’re still my bestest friend. No matter what.”
Miles was shocked for a moment, but then returned the hug tightly. This was a complete relief. Phoenix wanted to stay friends. “...Thanks, Phoenix.”
He giggled. “You don’t have to thank me!”
“I-I meant for staying. A-after the…” Miles trailed off.
Phoenix ran a hand through his spiky mess of hair. “I mean. It was kind of awkward. But I think you’re right. We’ll do it a lot when we’re older, so we don’t really have to worry about it now.”
“...Why couldn’t you come to that conclusion an hour ago?!”
Phoenix happily shrugged, and Miles groaned. His best friend could be so stubborn.
“Maybe we could try again later? When we’re older.” Phoenix trained his eyes on Miles, who felt his cheeks burn under the other boy’s gaze.
“M-maybe.”
Phoenix shook Miles’ shoulder. “No, really! I think it changes when we get older.”
“How would that work? Does it change with maturity?” Miles cocked his head.
Phoenix had a confused expression, but he nodded carefully. “Um… yeah.”
“Oh. O-okay…” Miles blinked. “But you wouldn’t want to try with someone else?”
Phoenix flashed him a toothy grin. “No, you’re my bestest friend of all time. I don’t think I could love anyone else more.”
Miles’ eyes widened. Phoenix crawled over and flopped down next to him. “What do you think is gonna happen next on Signal Samurai?”
Miles hesitated, but he cuddled up next to his friend. “I… I’m not certain.”
“Really? You always have some sort of crazy theory that turns out to be right!”
Miles shrugged. “That’s because I look for clues in the last episode. Sometimes it will hint at what happens next.”
“You’re so cool, Miles. I could never be as smart as you.”
“Maybe you could… I-I’m not that smart…” But the compliment felt good to hear, even if he was being humble at the moment.
“Yes you are! You’re at like- the tippy-top of our class.” He raised a hand for emphasis. It was clear he was getting a little drowsy.
“I-I like to learn. Everyone should be at the top.”
“No way. I could never.”
“You do better in art than me.” He was jealous, but it was true. If he was to cheer his friend up at the expense of his own shortcomings, so be it.
“Yeah, but you’re better at everything else.”
Curses. Miles didn’t have a comeback. “Well… um…”
“It would be cool if they had an episode where Red had to save Blue, or Yellow had to save Red- I love those kinds of stories.” Phoenix was already on the next topic of discussion. He turned to Miles and gave him a sleepy smile. “Then we could act it out at recess!”
“That would be cool.”
“See?! That’s what I’m-” he paused to yawn, “saying.”
Miles echoed his yawn, then scowled. “Maybe.” He looked up at the fan. “Although, I guess it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to have that happen. If you remember last week’s episode-” He turned his head towards Phoenix, who was curled into him and snoring softly. Miles smiled, and sleepily nuzzled into him with a sigh. They could talk about it in the morning.
A good while later, Miles was woken up by the quiet creaking of his bedroom door. A soft glow advanced throughout the room, and Miles sat up to rub his eyes. A dark shadow appeared in his doorframe, but he knew not to be afraid when he saw his father’s glistening glasses lenses reflecting the new light.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Greg’s gentle warm voice sounded. Miles yawned.
“‘S okay, Father…”
Greg made his way over and tucked his son back into bed. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah.” Miles leaned forward tiredly, and his father sifted through his silver hair with a quiet hum.
“Glad to hear it.” He guided Miles back onto his pillow and then bent down to kiss his head. And there was that warm feeling, that overflowing sense of love and care. “I love you, Miles.”
“I love you too, Father.” Miles realized how lucky he was. He glanced over at Phoenix, sound asleep and clutching the quilt.
Greg grunted as he stood back up and began to turn around.
“F-father?”
“What is it, son?” Greg paused, facing the bed once more.
Miles swallowed. “Could… could you kiss Phoenix goodnight, too?”
Greg seemed a little surprised by his son’s request, but he smiled with a gentle nod. “I can certainly do that.” He bent back down to kiss Phoenix’s head.
Phoenix’s mouth turned up slightly. Miles couldn’t help but follow suit.
“Get some rest, boys.” Greg carefully shut the door, leaving the two nine-year-olds. Miles, satisfied, burrowed into his blankets and finally succumbed to sleep.