It has been so long. So long since he reached out a metaphorical hand toward Miles and found it ignored, pushed aside, in favour of 'Miles Edgeworth knows best'. It's pretty surreal. He can't help but make a wry huff, smiling a little to himself as he sprinkles cheese over the omelet.

Then, he allows himself a proper laugh, though it's lacking some real humour. Miles wouldn't know, of course, the lesson he had to learn about that, and the seven painstaking years he spent planning to bring down the man responsible for all his and Trucy's pain and strife. The one he could have prevented with some more care and planning. Right? Or could he have? He thinks he'll be asking himself that for the rest of his life.

"Yeah, maybe."

Speaking of rushing in without thinking, he probably ought not to say much else, no matter how much he wants to. But oh how he wants to talk about their travels, about Trucy and how Miles comes to see many of her shows, about how much he cares for her too. How badly he wants to tell him about all the ways he is kind and loving and one of the greatest friends you could ask for.

But that's not really needed, is it? Miles went away and decided all by himself to come back. He doesn't need the reassurances and, right now, they might just do more harm than good. They'd be overwhelming, if nothing else.