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It all started with a box of chocolates.
Wendy Oldbag has been rather generous in the gifts that she sends to Miles Edgeworth that he considers those presents as second nature.
However, he wasn’t stupid enough to consume any edible gift that she offers, in fear of whatever that weird old lady put in them. The moment he receives the gifts, which always had some steel samurai merch with, he tears it apart and tosses the chocolate right to the bin without sparing it a glance.
It was only because of a series of coincidences that led to him consuming such a heinous treat.
—
That very morning started out as a simple day. Miles was early to the office, arriving at exactly 4am on the dot. He didn’t exactly get sleep that night, as he took an all nighter for an investigation that needed his assistance. The consultation took much longer than necessary, but sleep has always been the least of his priorities, so he didn’t mind.
“Detective. Close the door behind you as you leave.” Miles murmured softly. He is fighting back a yawn, he needs to sort out his notes before he could fully rest.
“Happy Valentine's Day, sir!” Gumshoe greets him cheerily.
Miles quickly looks at his calendar, it is indeed, valentines day. How dreadful. He would need to spend the day surrounded by cheesy, annoying couples flocking to each other, being more touchy than usual.
“Can’t they engage in such displays in private?” Miles mumbles, already feeling the festive spirit.
“What was that, sir?” Gumshoe asks, mistakenly hearing his mumble for an order.
“It’s nothing important.” Miles waves him off. One of his hands strangely seems to be behind his back, like he’s hiding something.
Miles raises an eyebrow, and like the usual, Gumshoe understands his inquiring gaze, and starts speaking.
“I managed to save up lately.” Gumshoe says proudly. “Happy Valentines, again, sir.” Gumshoe presents a box of chocolates. It was a small red box with a gold trim, the chocolate easily visible in the packaging. It looks like it costs quite a fortune. It would always amaze Miles how the detective still manages to buy chocolates for various people every year despite his low salary. This is one of the reasons why Gumshoe is well liked by his colleagues.
“Does this mean there’ll be no pay cuts for today…?” Gumshoe jokes nervously, scratching the back of his head.
Miles could only roll his eyes in response. At this point in time, threats of pay cuts are merely just for the sake of it. Gumshoe might be incompetent at times, but he does the job well enough. There’s not much detectives to go around, anyway.
“Not unless you leave my office this instant.” Miles glares at Gumshoe, his finger tapping impatiently. Unfortunately, his glares are no longer as effective as before, as Gumshoe beamed in return. Miles gently takes the present and without looking, opens one of his drawers and stuffs the treat inside.
“Have a nice rest, Mr. Edgeworth!” Gumshoe closes the door behind him, and Miles can finally sleep.
He lets his fatigue take him away.
—
Miles awakens at almost nine in the morning, still feeling tired from the day before. He rubs his eyes and fixes his appearance to look professional, combing his sleep tousled hair to look pristine.
As part of his morning routine, he brews tea to wake up. It is simply a must for early mornings, as caffeine doesn’t give him the same effects that many claim it does.
As he waits for the water on his thermos to warm up, he notices a forgotten box of chocolate on his office floor, right next to his desk. He vaguely remembers Gumshoe offering a red box of chocolates earlier, something he learned to accept as more valentines come each year.
Did I drop it by accident? Miles wonders. It’s strange, but with a muddled memory from last night due to exhaustion, there is a possibility he dropped it after receiving it. He picks it up, deciding to eat it with his morning tea, a decision he’d come to regret.
—
The effect doesn’t show immediately. It starts as an itching annoyance, which could easily pass as dehydration. Miles does forget to drink water most days, so it wasn’t far off the norm.
But what is unlike the norm is the extreme nausea that started an hour after consuming the chocolate.
What was a nice warm morning turned into a chilly winter-like day. His head pounded strongly, causing him to wince in pain. Miles could not focus on the documents right in front of him as his vision looks as if it's swimming.
Did I …contract some sort of fever?
Miles opens his drawer to find anything that could alleviate his illness. To his greatest horror, he discovers the untouched box of chocolates that he is certain was the one Gumshoe gave earlier.
“If it’s here…. then…” A feeling of dread washes over him, and he immediately checks the trash bin under his desk. It’s empty.
It’s empty.
He had consumed an unknown box of chocolates. Miles should’ve been more cautious. But that shouldn’t stop him from doing work at all. He just needed to find some kind of medicine that could solve whatever he’s experiencing at the moment.
However, the moment he stands up to obtain medicine, his vision goes spotty and the next thing he knows, he is on the floor. He tries to dig through his pockets for his phone, but it seemed like luck was not on his side that day as he left it on his desk, something he is unable to reach at that moment.
His entire body felt weak, each movement drawing more energy than the last. The world is spinning, blurring and fading in and out of view.
What in the world was in that chocolate?
“Miles—?” An unexpected voice rang out.
What is he doing here?
With a squeak of the door, bright blue slacks and brown (….shoes?) came to his view. He’s constantly seeing double, worsening his headache. Miles struggles with keeping his eyes open.
“Ar… yo… okay? ….. you hear …e?” Phoenix rushed to his side, but he felt too weak to respond. All he could register was Phoenix trying to shake him, which was a bad decision on his part, as it only served to worsen his nausea.
Then the world goes dark.
—
Miles wakes up with a jolt, finding himself on a hospital bed. His hair is damp from sweat, clinging to his forehead. His head, still spinning.
“Ugh.” Miles clutches his head, trying to fight the throbbing headache he’s feeling. Everything felt lighter, somehow. Different.
He turns his focus to his surroundings. He is kept in a private room, without his phone in sight to tell if he had been passed out for that long. Beside him is a desk with a vase of flowers, with a get-well-soon card.
The room’s door opens slowly with a creak.
“You’re awake!” A familiar voice calls out.
“Wright, do you even know that you shouldn’t shake—” Miles starts to complain, but the moment his eyes landed on Phoenix, every word died on his throat.
Was Phoenix this blindingly gorgeous before? Literally blindingly, it was as if a lens had been placed over his eyes, accentuating the features of his friend that he has never seen before. He looks to the side, the curtains are blocking the sunlight, so that couldn’t be the source of light. Was it faulty LEDs then?
Miles needs to squint just to get a proper glimpse, as he couldn’t see anything properly when faced in Phoenix's direction, his focus oddly settling on his rival’s lips.
“Do you perhaps wear lipgloss?” Miles blurts out. It is unlike him, to stammer out a sentence all of a sudden. He must be out of it.
“...No?” Phoenix says, confused. The way that he looks befuddled was simply adorable.
Miles’ heart started pounding, a bit too strong for his liking. “Urgk…” He held his chest, finding himself unable to breathe properly. The machine beeped loudly, his heart rate constantly increasing. Is he having a panic attack?
“Are you alright, Miles? I’ll… I’ll call the nurse, be back soon.” Phoenix panics, but Miles’ headache only seemed to get worse, screaming at him to not let the other go.
Miles wants to clutch his head in pain, but somehow his hand holds on to Phoenix’s arm instead.
“...Stay…” Miles struggles to say. Between the choking feeling in his throat whenever he looks at Phoenix and the suffocation in his lungs, he manages to choke out a word.
“Huh?” Phoenix pauses. “But—”
“You have to stay with me.” Miles spits the words out. He has no idea why he is telling Phoenix to stay at all.
“I won’t take too long, I promise.” Phoenix says, trying to pry his arm off. “Since when are you this strong…?” He murmurs, struggling against Miles’ grip.
“Can you let go? Please?” Phoenix pleads, his tone, soft.
Miles tries to remove his hand away, but finds out that he couldn’t at all.
“It appears as if I am not able to control my limbs.” Miles says, trying to pry off his arm with the other, but finds himself too weak in this battle against himself.
“That sounds pretty bad, did you hit your head or something when you fell?” Phoenix finally frees himself from Miles’ grip, putting more distance in between them two.
“It’s a possibility. Unlike you who fell from heaven, clearly I did not fall gracefully.” Miles speaks, his gaze darting somewhere else. “My vision went—” Miles’ paused in the middle of his recall as he noticed Phoenix’s strange expression.
“Did you just—” Phoenix stammered.
“Did I just, what?” Miles replies, confused.
“Nothing, I must have… imagined it or something.” Phoenix took a step away further. “I’ll be calling the nurse… to check…” Phoenix runs away from the room, leaving the door open.
“I didn’t even have the chance to ask for the time.” Miles speaks out loud. He wonders if merely hours had passed, or worse, days. He didn’t even get to call Franziska who surely would whip him out of worry.
—
“The patient seems perfectly healthy. He’s good to go.” The nurse says after giving Miles a quick checkup.
“Wait, can’t he stay for a bit more? Edgeworth, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Phoenix fusses over him like he’s some child.
“I told you, I’m fine, Wright. I have to get back to work.” Miles waves him off. Why didn’t anyone tell him that he has been slacking off work for almost five hours now? His schedule is completely ruined!
However, as a prosecutor, he does know that there will always be unexpected events that arise in every situation. So, he made sure his schedule is flexible enough to accommodate for such.
But still, he has every right to complain. His schedule might be easy to get back on track, but he would like to do that as soon as possible, thank you very much.
Phoenix glances between him and then the nurse.
“Stay for as long as you need. The doctor advised rest.” The nurse spoke, then left the room.
“Hear that, Edgeworth!? The doctor advised rest.” Phoenix repeats smugly.
“Yes, yes, no need to parrot the advice to me, Wright.” As much as he would like to go back to work, the test did fail to consider his recurring symptoms of chest ache. It was not something he told the nurse, of course, but if nothing unusual appeared, it might be something else.
While Miles would usually sport a blank face, eyes rolling in humor, somehow, he found himself staring at Phoenix once more, his arm propping his chin.
“...Edgeworth…?” Phoenix’s eyebrows furrow at the motion.
“Hm?” Miles tilts his head. Why does Phoenix look so puzzled?
“You haven’t eaten lunch, do you want anything to eat?” Phoenix smiles weirdly, and Miles’ stomach rumbles a little at the word.
While he usually doesn’t eat a meal for breakfast, he does eat a proper lunch at times.
“Something to eat?” He doesn’t quite like hospital food but something tells him otherwise. “Any should be fine.” He couldn’t help but stare at Phoenix again for some reason.
“Okay. Okay.” Phoenix responds in quick succession, leaving the room to get lunch.
—
Without Phoenix, Miles’ chest ache worsened ten-fold. He couldn’t exactly pin-point what the feeling is, but it felt similarly to longing.
Phoenix left Miles’ phone on the bedside table, just inside the drawer. It is something he told him before the checkup, and it was how Miles came to know how long he was asleep for.
The internet must surely know something more than these incompetent doctors…
Searching for: [chest ache symptoms of]
Of course the internet tells him that he might be dying. He doubts it, seeing as searching usually ends up in the search engine saying outrageous results like having a rare disease that only one in a billion people can get.
This means that he should narrow his search down. His symptoms are quite the generic kind, so if he wants to see real results he needs to specify exactly what he needs.
When did these symptoms start?
When he woke up.
Miles tried to recall what happened right as he woke up. He inspected the room as he always does, and turned to—
Wright.
The eye-blindingly looking Phoenix Wright.
His throat went dry and his chest started pounding, his heart rate going through the roof. Unexplainable things started to happen, an example would be his hand refusing to comply with his wishes and having the urge of making Phoenix stay, just like the unbearable longing he feels right now.
This better not be what I’m thinking of…!
Searching for: [chest ache throat dry high heart rate because of someone]
Result: You might be in love.
Miles Edgeworth never wanted to die so badly in his entire life. He wants to throw his device to the window, never to be seen again. He could also put the phone down gently and vent on something else, such as an unfortunate pillow. But instead of doing these, he clutched it tightly and squealed.
…Squealed????????
Miles had to glance around the room to see the source of the sound. But in the end, after more than a minute of searching, he could only deduct that it was him who did so.
He crossed his eyebrows in disgust. He wants to throw up.
He does not squeal.
He never even knew such a thing was possible.
Something is wrong with him, and it started the moment he woke up. But first, he needs to discuss this matter with Phoenix.
—
“Hey, sorry it took me a long time. The line was longer than I thought.” Phoenix enters the room once more. It has been a very long time since he left. In his hand is a bag of food, so perhaps he hasn’t forgotten his objective afterall.
His heart soars at the sight of the man, which is unfortunately fighting against his annoyance. His head is a mix of various emotions, but he thinks that he’s getting better at pinpointing each one.
Right. He has to talk about those.
“Wright—”
“Edgeworth—”
Both of them spoke at the exact same time, then paused.
“You can go first.” Phoenix says, apologetically, putting the food on the desk beside Miles’ hospital bed.
Miles clears his throat.
“I think… I’m in love with you, Wright. Romantically, that is.” Miles says those three words more affectionately than he intended.
If not, that would mean that I am actively dying at this moment.
Unexpectedly, Phoenix recoils back, a multitude of expressions passing through his face for a split second. All of it went by so fast that Miles couldn’t decipher a single one. Phoenix then goes pale, before breathing out.
Miles… doesn’t understand. This was what Phoenix wished for, no? Phoenix had always been blatantly verbal about his affection for Miles. They both knew that it is beyond a simple crush, but they also knew that they couldn’t be together because of it.
It was because of a simple fact.
Miles Edgeworth couldn’t love Phoenix Wright back the same.
At first, Miles thought that surely, he was broken as he couldn’t love another, having the inability to feel romantic affection the same way others do.
That thought was simply foolish because love isn’t just about romance, it is about mutual trust and respect.
Phoenix is the closest thing akin to a romantic relationship, a lifelong partner that he could always lean on.
But it was also because of this, that Miles would always push him away, because deep down, he felt guilty for not reciprocating such pure devotion.
But now…
“Edgeworth… I think…” Phoenix says weakly, as if he was the one that needed to be in a hospital bed right now, “You must be confused… or… cursed….” Phoenix trails off, “Sorry, I just have to leave for a—”
Phoenix bolted out of the room before he could finish his sentence.
Miles is left with an empty room and the steady beeping of the machines hooked up to him.
Perhaps he didn’t quite understand him as much as he thought he did after all.
Love is …complicated.
Miles glances at the food on top of the desk, the one that Phoenix brought so late.
…Maybe he wasn’t so hungry after all.
—
At quarter to four, Miles finds himself back at his office building. He ate his late lunch after a few minutes, stomaching it despite feeling ill. He does not want a repeat performance of himself fainting once again. He felt like he overstayed his welcome in that hospital room, so he left.
He was about to enter his room when footsteps approached in his direction.
“Mr. Edgeworth! You’re back!” Gumshoe greets him in surprise. “Wait, why are you back so early!?” The detective exclaimed.
“There is work that needs to be done.” Miles turns away from the door and onto Gumshoe’s direction, crossing his arms. He looked at Gumshoe in the usual way, and somehow didn’t feel anything strange. His heart didn’t feel like it was going to give out any second nor did his lungs feel like collapsing.
As I thought, Phoenix Wright was the only one capable of it.
But why him, exactly?
Gumshoe looks a little upset. “Can’t the work be done some other day?” Gumshoe scratches his head, “You just got out of the hospital, sir.”
Miles chose not to respond. He turns back to his door, turning the metallic knob.
The door creaks as it opens.
…
Miles stops midway, feeling the stare behind his back.
Miles sighs.
“...I appreciate your concern, detective. I am well enough to continue working. It seems to me that you need to do so as well.” Miles did not bother to glance back.
The nurse did say that he was free to go.
He couldn’t see the detective’s expression, but he is certain that he will be startled by the reminder.
“Don’t forget to yell out for help if you need to!” Gumshoe’s voice became fainter and fainter, presumably rushing somewhere else.
Miles fully opens the door, stepping into a messy office. He accidentally kicks over something, and upon closer inspection, it’s a pack of teabags that he doesn’t own. He picks it up in curiosity, and somehow, his face flushes in response.
It must be related to Phoenix somehow, he could feel it so. Smell it even, which was getting weirder the more that his thoughts linger about it. Is heightened senses related to Phoenix one of the effects of the chocolate?
Was this box of tea bags the reason why he was in Miles’ office this morning?
Miles stashes the box inside his coat to ask later.
He picks up the red box that he ate chocolates by accident out of. There isn’t anything strange written out on the front, but the moment he switches to the back of the box, squinting at the text written in it, he throws it immediately to the bin again.
His face lights up, a strange heat creeping up. Miles immediately ran to his mirror, and the sight of his face being completely red reflected back at him.
This is embarrassing, has been and will be embarrassing. Whoever made that chocolate must be a complete nut-head. He couldn’t be bothered to identify how much of the redness in his face is the chocolate’s doing.
…
This was the moment that Miles Edgeworth decided to bury himself in work instead.
—
Miles’ office door swings open all of a sudden with a loud squeak. He needed to talk to maintenance soon to oil the hinges as it was getting rather annoying.
“Edgeworth! Why did you leave the hospital!?” Phoenix immediately starts his scolding.
“I’m fine, Wright.” Miles refuses to look him in the eye, focusing on his work instead. His stomach takes a little leap with the sound of Phoenix’s voice, and it’s very tempting to drown himself in tea at this moment.
“Don’t you know I can tell you’re still not fine?” Phoenix slams his hands on the desk, reenacting his courtroom behavior.
Miles finally looks at his face. His beaming, beautiful face— or so his brain says, that he couldn’t stand one bit. “It’s just some bad chocolate I ate.”
“That chocolate, it’s the one in the empty box, isn’t it. The one in your trash can.” Phoenix spoke as if he figured out something, showing his habit of putting his hand on his chin whenever he thinks.
Since he already knows, Miles doesn’t see the point to deny or lie about it. “Yes, it was a special gift from Wendy Oldbag that I had mistakenly eaten.”
“How would you even get chocolates from her in the first place? Don’t you have security in this place?” Phoenix asks, bewildered.
“.......” Miles chose to stay silent. He tries his best not to look at his Steel Samurai figurine.
“What did that chocolate even do to you? You’ve been acting weird ever since you woke up.” Phoenix asks again. He noticed it. Of course he did.
Phoenix is observant. Apart from jumping to wild conclusions, his perceptive nature is unmatched. He easily can tell the emotional states of others, sometimes knowing better than the person themselves. It is a trait that Miles struggles to utilize, but Phoenix does it so effortlessly.
“It seems like I have been put into a state similarly to a love potion.” Miles slowly stands up, tucking away his work.
“A love potion?” Phoenix takes a step back. “Is that possible?”
Miles didn’t think so either, until an hour ago, that is.
“It says so in fine print on the back of the box. I wouldn’t have believed it either if I wasn’t acting strange.” Miles glances once to the box. He plans to glance away, to hide himself from Phoenix as he reveals its content, but his gaze stood firm and locked in to him. “It also said that if the curse isn’t solved by today, I could stay this way forever.” Miles adds. It sounded desperate, somehow.
Phoenix’s expression turned sour.
“What are you trying to say, Edgeworth?” Phoenix spoke with a shaky voice. He sounds scared.
“We can be in love with each other forever.” Miles closes his eyes, lost in a daydream. An uncontrollable daydream of them prancing under the sunlight. He opens them again to reality, seeing Phoenix trembling in front of him.
Forever is quite a strong word.
“This— this isn’t right, Edgeworth, and you know that.” Phoenix’s voice trembles once more.
“...I thought you would’ve jumped at the opportunity.” Miles looks out the window, the sight of the sun setting casting its orange rays into the office.
Being in love wouldn’t be too bad if he would love Phoenix Wright.
“Do I seem like that kind of person to you?” Phoenix says, his tone accusatory.
Phoenix, declaring that he’ll defend him. Phoenix, saving him from his nightmares. Phoenix, insisting his innocence. Phoenix, who shines so bright that he could not forget his brilliance.
Phoenix, who always saves others, even at the cost of his life.
“No, not at all.” Miles grips his own arm, squeezing it tighter.
His head hurts…
Suddenly, firm hands grab his shoulders.
“Get a grip, Edgeworth! Is it you or the curse talking!?” Phoenix holds him by the shoulders, looking him in the eye.
He’s so close. Miles feels like spontaneously combusting right now. His head is spinning wildly from this proximity, it made his headache worse.
Kiss him. Kiss him.
…
That one is the curse talking, he has never been interested in such action. Miles shakes his head to get rid of it.
“I don’t know… I—” Miles averts his glance. “It’s quite hard to tell, at times.” He thought that he knew himself well, but the more that he is under the spell, the more the lines of his identity blurs.
Who is Miles Edgeworth and who is the curse?
Miles shuts his eyes, trying to regain his sense of self.
What is the truth?
Miles Edgeworth loves Phoenix Wright, in many ways but one.
Miles, even if he does not feel romantic attraction, he longs for a lifelong partner, someone who will stay by his side, forever.
Was it wrong to wish to not be lonely?
Phoenix is someone who forcefully wormed into his life, and he couldn’t bring himself to let him go. If he was to have a partner, it would be him, because there would be no Miles Edgeworth without Phoenix Wright.
Maybe the curse does have some influence over him, but sometimes, these words came from his very heart.
“Wouldn’t it be nice… if I could feel romantic attraction, especially directed at you? I could love you back, this time.” Miles couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.
“No, I don’t need that.” Phoenix shakes him. As if telling him to abandon the thought. “I’m content with what we are, what we have.”
Miles slowly opens his eyes.
“Are you certain of it?” Miles averts his gaze again. You don’t even know what we are exactly. None of us knows for certain.
“Does it matter?” Phoenix lets go of Miles, a small hopeful smile on his face visible in his periphery. “Does it matter what way I could spend forever with you?”
Does it matter if the love they feel for each other is romantic or not?
“...No, I suppose not.” Miles clutches his arm, finally looking at Phoenix.
Being by each other’s side is enough.
Phoenix and Miles stare at each other, knowing that finally, they are on the same page.
The room is silent. The two slowly became painfully aware of the fact.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
With every tick of the clock, the silence becomes more and more awkward.
“So… how do you get rid of the curse? Do you just wait it out, or—?” Phoenix nervously asks.
Miles looks out of his window.
“The moment the sky darkens.” Miles says, “We must…” Miles pursed his lips. He gathers his courage, and continues his sentence. “...We must hold hands till we awaken the next day.”
Miles couldn’t bear to look at Phoenix’s face, he’s sure that the warmth across his face is his own doing this time.
The sunlight fades into pitch darkness, leaving a small table lamp illuminating the room.
“Well…” Phoenix responds, Miles turns to look at him, only to see Phoenix offering a hand out. “The moon is out, isn’t it? Shall we?”
Miles takes his hand on his. Their fingers slowly intertwine.
Real warmness spreads through his chest, and the artificial one never felt colder in comparison.
—
When Miles wakes up the next day, Phoenix is wide awake beside him.
They decided to spend the night in Miles’ house, as Phoenix’s apartment is not available at the moment. Phoenix said that it was messy at first, and then admitted that Maya had conquered his apartment which left him sleeping on the couch.
With the issue of their hand holding, Phoenix can’t sleep somewhere else apart from Miles. In the end, they agreed on letting Phoenix sleep on the floor beside Miles’ bed instead.
“Oh, you’re finally awake!” Phoenix greets him. “So uh, I couldn’t wake you up with this…” Phoenix points to their intertwined hands. “Not sure if the instructions mean to wake up naturally… and you seem like a light sleeper.”
“That is true. But I don’t think such small movements will disturb my sleep.” Miles replies, rubbing his eyes with his other hand.
“Oh, uh. Alright then.” Phoenix starts to separate his hand from Miles.
Miles grips it tighter.
Phoenix looks at him quickly, eyes full of concern. “Did it not work?” Phoenix tries to let go, but just like that moment in the hospital, he struggles to escape.
“I’m fairly sure it did.” Miles rubs his eyes again, yawning a little. He still refuses to let go.
“Then…” Phoenix looks at their intertwined hands then back to Miles. “Are you really sure?”
“I’m certain that I don’t see you as some walking light hazard nor does my heart beat reminiscent of having a panic attack.” Miles narrows his eyes. He opens the bedroom door, walking through the halls of his house.
Phoenix looks confused, his eyes darting back and forth from their intertwined hands to Miles’ face, but follows his lead anyway.
“...I've always wanted to know what holding your hands feels like.” Miles says, embarrassed, their talk yesterday gave him newfound courage to speak a lot more often. While he doesn’t wonder how it is to kiss someone, he does wonder how it would feel to hold their hand. He deliberately refuses to look at Phoenix’s expression, marching towards the kitchen.
He could only hear Phoenix snickering, to which it evolved to small chuckles. Miles finally looks back, Phoenix is smiling, and it was much more beautiful than the effect that the chocolate gave him. There were no sparkles or a radiant light. Just his invaluable partner, Phoenix Wright.
“I really can’t figure out what you’re thinking sometimes.” Phoenix says, a soft look in his eyes.
“There’s plenty of time to. Do you fancy some tea?” Miles offers, pointing at the counter where a box of tea sits.
It is rather a familiar one.
“Is that the one I brought yesterday?” Phoenix exclaims loudly. Miles nods in return.
Yes. This is what love is.
It isn’t the norm, but it’s real, quiet, and most importantly, theirs.
Phoenix takes the box, holding it with his free hand. “It’s a day late, but… Happy Valentine's Day, Edgeworth.” Phoenix hands over the box to Miles.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Wright.” Miles let out a small smile.