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Miles Edgeworth is a lonely man , he knew this and will always savour the bitterness .
Is it a partner that he needs ? none, he thought to himself. taking care of himself is rather hard, whatmore if its others.
He could simply order a certain service to come to his house but the thought of it makes him grimace, he was scared of ailments and wouldn’t stoop so low.
Maybe it’s quality time that he needs, going shopping, eating out, getting a massage. But whats the use? He owns many practical items and feeds himself sufficiently, besides that, he also hates physical touch.
But what is he doing now?
It was certainly his house—but with added subtle features of comfortness. The television in front of him was playing The Steel Samurai, episode 39, he recollected. The volume was low so he neednt to stand up to reach it while bothering Phoenix and Trucy that were sleeping each beside him.
Hold on— Phoenix and Trucy beside him?
His right arm occupied by a man with spiky hair, jagged eyebrows, and a stupid police mascot t-shirt; snoring without a care in world, safe in miles’ touch at that. He placed a gentle kiss on the head of the black haired person.
He turned his head to the left, a sleeping teenager drooling away on Miles’ shoulders, she was wearing a full pajama outfit set complete with the hat, in the same shade that Miles owned. He placed also a gentle kiss on her head.
Right, he is now 35-years old; no more of that snobby little mean prosecutor.
He closed his eyes while being embraced by his family—that’s right, his family.
Miles Edgeworth is no longer a lonely man.