Phoenix had looked forward to having Miles stay over another night. After their little heart-to-heart, Miles had dropped a large portion of his cold facade, possibly for the sole reason that there wasn't much point to it anymore.

Instead, he'd gotten a call from a frazzled Maya.

"Can you come see me in Kurain? I really need someone to talk to right now, but I don't have time to go down there, the elders would kill me."

Phoenix felt his heart sink a little, but he couldn't refuse her. Of course he cared about Maya. Of course he would go to her if she needed him. But Maya was an open book. Getting to know her was easy, and she'd tell him anything he asked. Miles was a different story.

"Of course. Whatever you need," he replied, but he could not force a cheerful tone.

He figured that if he was going to be in Kurain he wouldn't get back until well after dark, and Miles surely wouldn't want to stop by so late after already going home and getting comfortable. He didn't have all day to sit around and wait for Phoenix. He was a busy man.

And so he trudged sadly to Miles' office. As embarrassing and odd as it was, he didn't actually have Miles' cell phone number, and he decided it was best to tell him about the change of plans in person, anyway. He knocked on the door to his office, and he waited, and when Miles opened the door his eyes widened slightly, but he invited the attorney in. Phoenix couldn't help but notice his small smile, and instantly felt like he'd taken a punch to the gut.

"So there's been a change of plans," he said after he'd taken a seat at the couch and refused Miles' offer of tea. Miles' face immediately fell.

Oh, god, don't look at me like that.

"Maya called, and she's really overwhelmed, and she needs some company but she doesn't have time to come all the way down here from the mountains but if I went down there I wouldn't get back until pretty late in the night, and I would have called you but I don't have your cell number and I didn't want to make some awkward office phone call—"

"Phoenix, these things happen, it's not a big deal. You don't have to apologize to me." His face said something entirely different. "And you're right. If I'm going to be waiting at home that long I'll start working, and then... Well, you know how I am. It's fine."

There was a silence, one that weighed down on Phoenix's shoulders, while he studied the prosecutor's expression. It was horribly downcast. He was usually quite good at concealing his emotions, so seeing him like this during the day, in his office, was jarring to say the least.

Phoenix thought on it for a moment, and looked at Miles' crestfallen face, and made a decision that he would probably call rash later.

"But I mean, if you really want to stop by, you still could if you don't mind waiting for me to get there."

Miles looked up only slightly, his expression still tentative. He had his lower lip between his teeth, and Phoenix noted that some of the skin looked recently healed, like he bit it far too often.

"Waiting for you to get there? To your apartment? What do you mean?"

Phoenix swallowed the lump in his throat and hoped he wasn't sweating too much.

"Well... why don't you let yourself in, and I'll meet you there when I'm finished?"

Miles quirked a brow at him.

"And how, pray tell, would I do that? You can't go leaving your front door unlocked."

"No, but... you could use this," Phoenix said quietly, and, with a shaking and probably sweaty hand, he offered up his spare key.

He had always kept it on his keychain because he'd never thought he'd have someone to give it to. It had always dangled there awkwardly, an empty promise. Now he felt like his hand was trembling under the metaphorical weight of it.

Miles looked at him, and fell completely silent, but his brows lowered slightly and he breathed in very deeply as his eyes flickered from Phoenix to the key in his hand. Phoenix knew what he was thinking, but he did not say anything.

There was always a lot that went unsaid between the two of them.

"...Are you sure about that?" Miles managed at last. He looked like he was holding in all of his breath, or trying not to cry, somehow, and his jaw trembled until he closed it and clamped his teeth together too hard.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why not? I mean, it's not like it's an engagement ring."

Miles' shoulders stiffened. Phoenix probably shouldn't have said that. He visibly winced and avoided Miles' eyes.

"Look, we've been having fun, and I know you wanna come over. You could do whatever you want while you wait for me, I know you know basic boundaries. Make yourself something to eat, if you want— I keep my recipe cards on the fridge. It might be relaxing for you."

Miles sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. For a moment, Phoenix was sure he was going to refuse the offer, but after a brief pause he breathed out through his nose and nodded slightly.

"...Where do you keep all the spare clothes?"

It took several long seconds for Phoenix to register the meaning of that arbitrary question. When it hit him he visibly twitched and felt his face flush. He probably looked like an excited puppy. Miles chuckled at that, but didn't comment on it.

"O-oh, uh, you don't have to go searching! I do have to stop by the apartment before I go. Maya wants me to make her some burgers. So, um, so I'll lay out something for you to wear, and I'll put your blanket and pillow out."

Not that I ever put them away, Phoenix didn't add.

Miles put the key in his wallet and wished Phoenix a good trip, and Phoenix took his leave. The train ride went quickly, as he spent the entire time imagining what Miles would be like in a truly domestic setting. He arrived in Kurain and managed to clear his head for the most part, but Maya caught on that something was different, and she asked a lot of questions about just what had him so cheerful now when he'd sounded so disheartened on the phone. Phoenix had winced at that— he had hoped she didn't catch it.

He and Maya ate their burgers, and got to talking until it was well past a proper adult bedtime, and he said hello to Pearl and played ball with her for a short while before she was ushered off to bed. He wished Maya well, and as always she waved to him as his train pulled out and continued to wave until she could no longer see him. Phoenix smiled. Today was already shaping up to be one of the best days ever.

With this in mind, he climbed the stairs to the right floor of his apartment building so quickly that he nearly tripped over his own feet several times, and he stood in front of the door to collect himself.

Miles was in the apartment already. Waiting for him. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was. Had he made himself something to eat? Had he gone through the cabinets as if they were his own, accustomed himself to using Phoenix's stove, eaten at the counter or perhaps on the couch while watching TV and feeling free to watch whatever he wanted? Had he changed into the fuzzy PJ pants and band tee that had been left on the couch for him?

Did Miles miss him? Was he as excited as Phoenix was?

The question demanded an answer, and so Phoenix unlocked his door. His heart swelled at the sight that greeted him— upon hearing the key in the lock, Miles had turned on the couch, pulling himself up onto the back of it somewhat. His face was that of a dog eager to see its master return home, but the expression was short-lived. Of course he wouldn't let his guard down that easily.

"Did you find everything okay? How have you been?" Phoenix asked a bit too quickly before Miles could say anything. The prosecutor smiled and nervously scratched at the back of his head.

"I attempted to make the, um. The..." He trailed off, apparently unable to place the name of his dish, and Phoenix glanced to the stove. He laughed when he saw the pot of macaroni noodles drowned in meat sauce and cheese.

"Beefaroni," he supplied, and Miles nodded. "I'll have to try some of it tomorrow. I'm still stuffed from all the burgers at the moment."

"I'm going to get fat at this rate. I'm not accustomed to this many carbohydrate-heavy meals in one week," Miles grumbled. The statement had no real malice behind it, and Phoenix playfully shoved his shoulder as he left for his bedroom.

He returned in more comfortable housewear, and upon sitting next to Miles on the couch saw that he had, in fact, changed his clothes. To his surprise, the pants fit him properly, which probably meant that Phoenix had gained weight since buying them and would no longer fit. The shirt was adorably large, exactly what he'd anticipated when he picked it out. It was the sort of shirt reserved specifically for sleeping in because it was impractically large, even on him. The band logo was hilariously unsuited to him. Miles didn't seem like the kind of guy who listened to Deff Leppard.

Phoenix felt a bit devious for picking out something he thought would look cute on his friend, but it couldn't be helped now.

"What did you want to do?" Miles asked, and Phoenix could feel his own expression brighten. Miles narrowed his eyes at this, as suspicious as always.

"Let's play Mariokart!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Y'know. Mariokart?"

Miles apparently did not know. Phoenix felt like he'd never been more offended.

"Don't tell me you've never played a video game before."

It wasn't a question, because he already knew the answer.

"No, of course not. I don't have the time to learn an entirely new skill set for the sole purpose of entertainment."

"Not even as a kid?!"

"In case you've forgotten, I was too busy studying for my future career in law as a child. No, I've never so much as touched one."

Phoenix groaned, but made up his mind.

"Well, that settles it, then," he said mostly to himself as he moved to turn on the console. He grabbed the controllers and returned to the couch, handing Miles the one with the screen on it. It would likely be easier for a beginner.

"But... But I don't know how to—"

"That's okay. I'll teach you how."

The process took much longer than Phoenix had anticipated. He should have expected it, as Miles didn't even understand what a joystick or a b-button was, much less the proper timing or method for using it. As frustrating as it was (or should have been) from time to time, Phoenix found himself enjoying every moment of it. Miles' face was aglow with genuine curiosity, and it was wonderful to see him doing something so normal. He looked so self-satisfied, so cute, when he figured something out that Phoenix kept wanting to kiss his forehead. As always, he ignored the urge.

"Okay, I think you're ready," Phoenix mumbled as he finally selected a proper racetrack. He thought he heard Miles say something to himself about liking the one that looked like candy.

Phoenix set everything on easy, and watched as Miles browsed thoughtfully through the characters and vehicle options. When Miles was unable to decide on a character, Phoenix took the remote and selected the one resembling Miles that he had made a while back. He sheepishly explained what a mii was, hoping Miles wasn't creeped out, but the prosecutor actually seemed flattered.

"He does look like me. Minus my suit, of course. A pity they don't have proper clothing," Miles observed. Phoenix laughed as he selected his own mii for himself. "That hair isn't nearly spiky enough," Miles chided, and Phoenix punched him in the arm.

The rest of the night was a blast, despite Phoenix learning the hard way that Miles was absurdly competitive about everything. Worn out from his frantic racing, Miles eventually fell asleep with his remote in his lap, and Phoenix repeated his nightly routine of readjusting sleeping men and washing and ironing clothes before heading to his own room.

The next morning, Miles attempted to return the spare key.

"Keep it," Phoenix insisted. "You can stop by anytime you want."

And to his surprise, Miles offered no argument. He put the key on his own chain before bidding him a farewell and vanishing, leaving Phoenix to wonder when he'd become so accustomed to the idea.