[It isn't until Edgeworth almost reaches the door that he finally registers what's playing. He pauses a few feet from the door as a trace of melancholy flashes across his face. His father was very fond of American standards and Sinatra in particular. Thanks to Wright's fondness for them, Miles has grown accustomed to listening to them and holding the memories they drum up at arm's length. It's worth the struggle: American standards generally mean Wright is in a very good mood.]
[Not that he's often in a bad mood. It's simply that his very good moods are so very enjoyable. Miles has begun to have a new...appreciation for this music.]
[Eventually he moves to the door, but he pauses there too, distracted from his purpose by the sight of Wright, his Wright, leaning over the filing cabinet and tapping his foot to the music. A smile breaks across Edgeworth's face as Wright starts to sing, only occasionally on key, and he continues to smile as he watches. How long will it take Wright to notice he's there? Only time will tell.]
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[Not that he's often in a bad mood. It's simply that his very good moods are so very enjoyable. Miles has begun to have a new...appreciation for this music.]
[Eventually he moves to the door, but he pauses there too, distracted from his purpose by the sight of Wright, his Wright, leaning over the filing cabinet and tapping his foot to the music. A smile breaks across Edgeworth's face as Wright starts to sing, only occasionally on key, and he continues to smile as he watches. How long will it take Wright to notice he's there? Only time will tell.]