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It had to be a fever, didn’t it?
There was no other explanation for these heart palpitations, this flushing in his cheeks, this weakness in his knees.
(And if it all seemed to only happen around Wright, well, that was just a coincidence.)
When he made the mistake of bringing up his symptoms to Kay, she had of course misconstrued things.
“That’s totally lovesickness! You’re in love!” she squealed, jumping up and down, which Miles wished she wouldn’t do because there were a number of things in his office that were easy to knock over. She disregarded his disapproving glare and slammed her gloved hands down on his desk. “Who is it? Do I know them?!”
“Please refrain from manhandling my desk,” he said stiffly, massaging his aching forehead, because answering the question would have been inconvenient. Besides that, his problem was most decidedly not what Kay thought it was.
Kay merely groaned melodramatically and walked the length of the office, running her hands through her hair. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” she asked, whirling around to face him with her hands on her hips. “It’s okay to have feelings! They don’t make you weaker!” she insisted.
“I’m—I’m perfectly aware of that!” he lied. “What makes you think this is caused by another person, anyway?”
She raised one eyebrow. “Uh, you said your heart starts pounding.” She counted that off on a finger. “Your knees get weak. Your face goes red. Your stomach feels funny.” Each item was counted off, and then she flung both hands up in the air. “Sounds like love to me!”
“Ridiculous,” he spat, turning away from her in his chair. He was too busy and too tired to deal with this right now.
“All right then, Mr. Dignified.” She walked back up to the desk, and leaned against it with one hip. “Just answer me this. Do all these things get worse around another person?”
Miles said nothing. He couldn’t.
“Does it consistently get worse around this other person?” she pressed.
His mouth was a firm line which no words could escape from.
“I rest my case,” she said.
“But why would all of this be because of f-feelings?!” he burst out, accidentally getting carried away and slamming a fist on his desk just as he’d asked Kay not to do. “I mean, I’ve known this person for ages—” His mouth snapped shut, and he turned his eyes sheepishly onto Kay, who was smiling at him smugly, her arms crossed.
“I knew it.”
“It doesn’t make any sense!” he insisted. “Why only in the last week? Why would the reactions be so strong?” Why would I start showing symptoms of lovesickness now when I’ve been in love with him for a decade? he added to himself.
Her only answer was to shrug and grin, her jade eyes sparkling. “Love works in mysterious ways.” She leaned an elbow on his desk, bending towards him coaxingly. “Now, are you going to tell me who you’re so enamored with, or am I going to have to find out myself?”
Miles’s cheeks heated up. “I’m telling you, it’s got nothing to do with—”
At the worst possible moment, the door creaked open, and Wright’s spiky head popped in. “Uh, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said, “but I had something I wanted to go over with you, Edgeworth?”
“Hey Mr. Wright!” Kay chirped, bouncing over to him. Miles’s blood ran cold. Would she say something to him? “You’re not interrupting anything. I was just trying to get Mr. Edgeworth to open up for once. As usual, I failed.”
As pesky as she had been moments before, Miles felt an intense sweep of affection towards the young Yatagarasu. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice a bit weak. “Kay was… just being a nuisance.” He pointedly ignored the offended pout she shot at him.
“Ah,” Wright said, his voice soft with understanding. He smiled over at Miles, dark blue eyes shining. “I know the feeling. I have to work to get him to open up, too.”
The prosecutor’s already-warm cheeks rapidly heated up even further until his entire face felt hot. His knuckles ached, and he looked down, realizing he was clenching his hands into fists. His palms felt sweaty. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Kay’s sharp eyes were traveling back and forth between the prosecutor and the defense attorney like she was watching a ping-pong match, a sly smile slowly spreading across her face. “I see,” she said, and Miles was afraid that she really had.
He cleared his throat and rose from his seat, paying no mind to the wobbly feeling in his knees. “I will be discussing work with Wright, now, Kay,” he said, voice businesslike. “If you would be so kind...”
Her face fell into a pout, her lower lip sticking out, but Miles never broke his pointed stare, so she huffed a sigh and shrugged. “Fine,” she grumbled, taking the few extra steps to the door and turning the handle. She hesitated, and then shot a smile over her shoulder. “Have fun, you two,” she sang before seeing herself out.
Wright blinked at the door, and then looked back over at Miles. “Why did she just say that like it was an inside joke?”
Miles’s heart was rather too active in his chest. “A lot of what Kay says is a joke,” he groused. He straightened his lapels, the familiar action helping to ground him. “Now then. Shall we discuss that Tennyson case?”
The defense attorney’s smile was dazzling. “Sure,” he said, and Miles’s stomach did a flip.
Four days had gone by, and still his symptoms had not improved. It didn’t help that Wright insisted on hanging around him like a persistent puppy.
“You’ve been pretty quiet, Edgeworth,” said the defense attorney as he leaned back on Miles’s couch, shooting Miles a smile that seemed to feel like a dart hitting him in the chest. “What’s on your mind?”
As was becoming typical, Miles found himself struggling to produce words. “I—I apologize; I’m just, ah, I’ve been thinking about a case,” he stammered out, adjusting his glasses as his eyes dropped down to the stack of papers on his desk.
“That’s why I tried to get you to leave the office to talk today,” said Wright, his mouth quirking over to one side in a frown. He crossed his arms, looking Miles over shrewdly. “Something’s bothering you. Something besides work.”
For a split second, Miles wondered how does he DO that? But then he remembered that Wright had a particular talisman that allowed him to see when people were keeping things from him—it seemed rather an unfair advantage in personal relationships, Miles thought. “And so what if it is?” he challenged, but his voice hadn’t come out nearly as defiant as he’d wanted it to. It sounded tired. Resigned.
“Well, aren’t we friends?” Miles’s hand twitched as he turned a page, and the paper crumpled slightly in his grip. Playing the ‘friend’ card, was he. “C’mon, you can talk to me. Is it about a coworker? A neighbor?”
Miles shook his head, and rubbed the space between his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. “No, no. It’s really nothing you need concern yourself—”
“Is it about me?” Wright said next, and Miles’s shoulders stiffened like he’d been hit with an electric shock.
“D… Don’t be ridiculous,” he said unconvincingly, tapping the bottom of the stack of papers on his desk to straighten them. “Why would I have a problem with you?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me that,” Wright replied. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you never looking me in the eye this week, and trying to hurry me out of the office at the first opportunity.”
Damn. He really was much more perceptive than he seemed. “I have done no such thing,” he said as he laid the papers flat again, knowing his cheeks were going red. He could practically feel the heat pulsing through them. It was horrible. He let his eyes fall closed, trying to compose himself. “I merely have quite a heavy workload presently, and cannot waste time with—”
But the words died in his throat, because his hands were suddenly enclosed in warmth. His eyes snapped open and shot down to see Wright’s hands covering his own. They locked onto Wright’s face next, which was an extraordinarily bad move, because the concern he saw there made his heart race dizzyingly. “Miles, have I done something wrong?” his old friend asked. “Why are you closing yourself off?”
Of course he hadn’t done anything wrong. Phoenix Wright had never done anything wrong, except trusting people too much. The day Miles would accuse Phoenix of doing something wrong would be the day the Evil Magistrate claimed victory over the Steel Samurai; that was, it would never happen. “I...” His mouth didn’t seem able to form words. His heartbeat pounded in his head. His palms started to sweat.
“Miles?” Phoenix’s face was much too close. “Hey, are you all right? You’re all red...”
The ceiling light, blurring in and out of focus behind Wright’s head. gave the impression of a halo. It was fitting. A smile worked its way across Miles’s face without his knowledge. “I’m good,” he mumbled, which was odd, because he hadn’t planned on saying anything.
“Holy crap, you’re burning up!” Wright’s hand was soothing on his forehead, and when he scrambled over to the side of the desk to grab the prosecutor’s shoulders, Miles felt something fuzzy in his stomach. “Miles, are you sick?”
Phoenix’s face was so full of worry, his brows creased and his blue eyes searching him desperately. The expression was almost… cute.
“What?” Phoenix breathed incredulously. Oh. Had Miles said the word out loud? “Y-You’re definitely not well. Hold on, Edgeworth—”
But he couldn’t hold on.
His eyes fell closed, and the world faded around him.
When he blinked his eyes open again, he was staring up at his office’s bright white ceiling lights. There was a pleasant cool sensation on his forehead. “Muh?” he said, which was about the only sound he could form at the moment.
“Oh thank god,” Wright murmured, eclipsing the lights with his face, staring down at Miles nervously. “You just… passed out a few minutes ago. I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance.”
“Mm,” he said, and pushed his hands against the surface of the couch to lift himself up.
“Whoa, there,” the defense attorney said, gently pushing him back down by the chest. “You should stay put for a bit. You’ve got a pretty bad fever.” He dragged a hand through his spikes, and Miles realized they looked messier than usual, as if he’d been holding his head in his hands. “You really scared me.”
Miles swallowed, and attempted to speak again, since he felt like his thoughts were flowing more smoothly now. “So you’re saying… I really am sick?”
Wright grimaced. “Uh, I used a thermometer from your first aid kit while you were out, and your temp is 102 degrees Fahrenheit, so I think it’s safe to say that you are sick, yes.”
Miles couldn’t help it. He started laughing, the sound bursting out of him until the shooting pain in his head cut it off and he hissed through his teeth, clapping a hand over his forehead and only then realizing that his friend had placed a wet towel there.
“Take it easy,” Wright pleaded.“What’s so funny?”
A smile still lingered on his face. “It’s just… I suspected this whole time that I was coming down with something, but Kay...” Maybe if he was in better control of his faculties, he wouldn’t be so open with this information, but here alone in his office with Wright, it didn’t feel so frightening to say. “Kay thought it was because I was in love with someone.”
The defense attorney reeled back so fast it looked like someone had yanked him by the back of his suit jacket. “What?” he yelped. “How long have you been feeling like this?!”
“Hmm...” His thoughts were moving sluggishly, but Miles managed to retrieve the information somewhere up there in his memory. “’Bout four days?”
Wright sighed and shook his head. “God, you work too hard.”
Miles watched closely in silence as the other man tenderly removed the cool towel from Miles’s forehead, turned it over, and settled it over his brows again. “I was starting to believe what Kay said, too,” he admitted quietly.
Dark blue eyes locked onto his. “Oh?” There was something hesitant in his voice, like he was wary of hearing any more.
“Mhm,” Miles said with a sigh as he closed his eyes, enjoying the coolness on his forehead. “After all, I only noticed the problems around one person. Someone I care about a lot.”
“Oh. I see.” Miles’s eyes cracked open, and he looked over to his side. Phoenix’s face looked closed-off in a way Miles didn’t like. The defense attorney’s hands were clenched in his lap. “Well… I’d better go get someone who can actually take care of you,” he said, getting to his feet.
The idea of Phoenix leaving and being replaced with another person made his heart sink in his chest, and Miles caught the other man’s hand before Phoenix could take another step. “Don’t,” he said.
Phoenix glanced back at him, but couldn’t seem to hold his gaze. His cheeks were pink. “Don’t what?”
He tugged on the blue sleeve insistently. “Don’t,” he repeated.
The exasperated look on his friend’s face was mingled with affection, half his mouth quirked up in a smile and his eyes soft under his furrowed brows. “You really must be feeling lousy if you can’t use your words,” he observed, but he sat down next to the couch again anyway, obliging Miles’s request. If you could call it that.
“I can use them,” Miles lied. “I just don’t feel like it.” His hand, still clinging to Phoenix’s sleeve, slid down until his fingers brushed his friend’s wrist. Wright jumped a bit, but opened his hand to allow Miles’s to slip into it. A feeling of contentment wrapped around Miles like a fluffy blanket. He smiled.
“Hey, um, Miles,” said Phoenix, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “what you said before you passed out… um… you s-said I was… cute?” His cheeks flushed adorably. “That… that was just the fever, right?”
The prosecutor’s smile widened. As long as Phoenix was offering it as an excuse… He lifted their joined hands up between them slowly. Phoenix’s eyes were wide with wonder as Miles brushed a kiss across his knuckles. “Yes,” he said simply. After all, he’d only said it because he was delirious. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. He held Phoenix’s gaze, willing him to understand.
After a few silent moments, Phoenix’s hand squeezed his, and the gentlest smile Miles had ever seen lit up his face. It made his heart ache. “Okay,” Phoenix said softly. “Get some rest now.”
Miles nodded, and let his eyes fall closed again.