A Little Warmth.
Patience had been a trait that the prosecutor could easily lose as well as keep. Whilst cold pierced through layers of clothing there was no denying it was wearing thin. Resorting to warming his hands as they froze touching the buzzer he slipped his slick car gloves on. They gave no real warmth – then again those were not the sole purpose in owning a pair.
Miles pressed the rusting buzzer for the fifth time, grumbling as he did so.
Patience did not dissipate when he heard the click of the buzzer. Miles almost barked his annoyance for the slow reaction to his passive calls for warmth, before he heard a feminine cheer, "Hello?"
It took a few moments for the voice to be recognised as Wright's assistant. "Hello, Ms Fey. It's Edgeworth."
"Oh, hello Mr Edgeworth!" Maya said eager to hear the prosecutor. "What're you doing?"
"Wright called to say he was dying."
"Ahh, sorry. He's such a baby," Maya sighed, her breath loud on the speaker.
"If it's no problem would you buzz me in? The weather is horrific." Miles said, unable to guess when the medium would open hospitality.
Maya apologised before clicking the buzzer. The door made a clicked and Miles thanked the young girl before pushing the stiff door.
The slightly warmer lobby air stroked his cheeks pathetically trying its earnest to lift the prosecutor's spirits. It all failing when the door slammed behind him. All it homed was a plant, in the corner, and a payphone by the broken elevator – not that it mattered to the prosecutor. He took no idle thought of the paper taped onto the elevator, as he headed straight to the third floor.
Reaching the apartment, Miles knocked sharply on the door. Moments later the door swung open, Miles was greeted by the usual grin of the spirit medium. He gave a nod and a polite greeting repeating his hello.
"It's a surprise to see you here, Miss Fey." Miles said.
"Yeah, well the Kurain village has terrible heating although Nick doesn't have it all either. Anyway Nick'd be hopeless without us half the time." Maya chuckled. "Like he is now."
"I see," Miles nodded a relief that he had not known had wanted sweeping over him as she had included him.
Miles entered the apartment closing the door behind him. He gave a glance around looking for any changes in the untidy apartment. Only the amount of litter was changed and thankfully the number was lower. Maya left Miles by the door for him to remove his coat placing them on the sofa as no other place was able to be. The small television was paused on episode nineteen of the Pink Princess season two. Standing idly, almost intrusive, he was unsure how to hold himself in the apartment that was neither theirs.
Miles opened his mouth as if to converse with Maya over the paused television but she had already returned from the kitchen with a bowl of soup. Maya handed the bowl warming his hands and said, "He's in his room."
Heading straight to the television, she did not wait for him to move. Miles turned to the room at the end and knocked on the door. His reply was a groan and at that he opened the door.
"Maya, I'm cold." A moan emitted from the piled duvet on the bed exposing the mattress. The pile was surrounded both with thrown clothes and used scrunched tissues.
"Wright, stop whining. It's colder outside than it is here." Miles could not help the smirk from the corner of his lips as Phoenix rose from his bed at his voice. He found amusement watching as Phoenix blink his bleary eyes. Phoenix trying to adjust his eyesight from his previous darkness in the blankets he had bundled himself under.
"Edgeworth?" Phoenix finally familiarised himself with the man sat on the side of his bed. Not only had the darkness been swept but there was a weird feeling of seeing Miles in smart-casual clothing and noting the missing cravat – it was as close to casual the man got. "I didn't think you'd actually come."
"Surprise," Miles said non-enthusiastically. "I have soup made from your assistant."
"Thanks, Edgeworth. The thought of you bringing me food made by someone else is heart-warming." Phoenix sneezed before reaching out for the bowl. Repulsed, Miles placed the bowl down swapping it for a clean tissue. Phoenix thanked him again taking it and making a trumpeting noise in the tissue.
"Do you not have medicine?" Miles asked as he stirred the soup, blowing the spoon.
Phoenix shook his head as he took the spoon in his mouth, impatient in waiting for Miles. Phoenix hissed at the temperature the broth still stood at. His tongue burned and he swore he had burnt off the taste buds – then again thanks to his illness it was not like they were of any use.
"It's hot," Miles said.
"Thanks," Phoenix scowled followed by coughs.
"Wright, I did not come here to feed you," Miles said blowing another spoonful of soup and stirring it back into the soup. He repeated the action a few more times.
When Miles held the spoon out for the twenty-five year old man wrapped in clothing and blankets, the sick man smiled as he sipped the soup. "Thanks for feeding me."
At that Miles handed the bowl to the sick man, forcing Phoenix's hands onto the warm bowl.
"You're so warm," Phoenix hummed reaching out to brush his knuckles back on Miles'. Miles allowed the sick man to brush against his.
"You may be a little warmer if you had some soup," Miles urged him to take in the liquid.
Phoenix kept his hands wrapped around the bowl and touching Miles' hands. Not wanting to remove himself from the warmth he could he receive. Miles raised his eyebrows waiting for him to move.
"I'm not feeding you."
"I won't eat, then."
The two stared rooted on the bed waiting for one move their hands. They gave stubborn glares just that they were the same adversaries in court. Phoenix gave a cocky smile stifling the cough scratching his throat, whilst Miles held his concerned glare.