Unnecessary... Not Again! - Chapter III
Late
It was around three in the morning when Miles finally heard the latch of the door clicking. He slowly got up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and went to welcome Wright and tell him about his night taking care of that sweet, sweet girl, as well as ask him why he came by so late.
He did not expect, however, Wright to barge in and completely barrel into him, nearly knocking him to the floor.
"Wright!" he yelled, offuscated. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"Oh... Shit... 'm sorry Miles... Didn't meanta... Hic!"
Miles froze. Wright had never called him by his first name except that time he got really drunk when he managed to overturn Miles' conviction. Which meant that he was probably really drunk at that moment. Miles' expression immediately softened, and he slightly raised his arms as if to calm down a scared animal.
"Wright... Did you drink?"
Wright blinked sluggishly and nodded.
"Just a lil'... 'get the edge off.. Hic!"
Miles frowned and looked away. He slowly, hesitantly grabbed Wright's arms and led him to the couch. Wright blinked confusedly at him.
"Stay here. I will grab you painkillers."
Miles left to the kitchen, taking care to hide the trembling in his hands. Wright wasn't supposed to be like that. Wright was supposed to be happy and smiling and... And...
"Miles? Y'good?" came Wright's voice from the living room.
Miles blinked and came back to his senses. He was gripping the sink with strength he didn't know he had, and he felt sick to his stomach.
"Ah..." he raised his voice so Wright could hear him. "Yes, I'm just trying to find the painkillers. I'll be right there."
Miles hurriedly grabbed one or two painkillers and a glass of water, and composed himself with a deep breath.
Wright was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, expression utterly void of any emotion. Miles stopped and stared at him, feeling his heart break little by little. He waited until Wright raised his head and offered up the medication.
"Trucy is truly..."
"A nightmare?" Wright smirked.
"A lovely child," Miles responded, tilting his head in amusement. "She is truly talented and kind. Like her father."
Wright's eyes widened.
"You knew Zak Gramarye?!" He sounded amazed. Miles cleared his throat.
"Right. Zak Grimoire. Talented magician, yes," lied Miles.
Wright looked at him for a second before taking the painkillers and slumping back against the couch with a groan. Miles sat down beside him silently. He didn't speak to or even look towards him, so they stayed in silence for a few minutes.
"I should be leaving, then," said Miles suddenly, standing up.
Wright's hand came up and grabbed his wrist, and Miles almost gasped. Almost. Wright pulled him back into the couch.
"Mmm... It's late, Edgeworth... You could get hurt on the highway..."
Miles could feel Wright's thumb rubbing against his pulse point. His hand felt like lead, and he felt it impossible to leave now.
"I'll get the couch ready for ya... Hic!"
"I can do it myself, Wright, really..."
"Yeah... 'course you can.... but I'm the host, right?"
"Really..."
They bickered on for a bit before Wright yawned, still holding onto Miles' wrist. Miles was about to chide him once more until he felt a warm breath against his shoulder.
Wright had fallen asleep — or more properly put, completely passed out — right against Miles.
Oh no.














