[The words are a shock to Edgeworth’s contented system. Coming wholly out of the blue, as far as he can see, they catch him off guard and leave him flailing for support as his heart seems to fall from its proper place. His body tenses, every muscle going taut, and for too long he can only stare at the pages of his book, unseeing, his mind having suddenly lost all comprehension of the printed lines.]
[Finally he manages to make his mouth work, though his response isn’t nearly as calm or collected as he wants it to be.] I know.
This icon is an accurate representation of Miles' feelings rn.
[Finally he manages to make his mouth work, though his response isn’t nearly as calm or collected as he wants it to be.] I know.