Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, so I do not own Twilight. Probably a good thing, because I suspect it would be a much darker story if it had been mine.
Chapter 25
Edward sat on the couch, picking up the remote without the pressing the power button.
He was surprised that Rosalie hadn't already come in to hog the remote the same way she tended to every night, even though he could guess why she hadn't made it to the living room yet.
His mom's favorite answer to anything she didn't want to talk about with them, 'it's not appropriate dinner conversation,' had been used once again. She'd used it a lot with them in the last few years. Unlike their dad, who usually answered anything asked – even if it tended to be with a degree of clinical detachment which made the answers feel like they came out of a text book – their mom firmly preferred to avoid difficult conversations.
He was quite certain it would make high school a bedrock of 'not appropriate conversations,' and wasn't certain if still being two school years out was a good thing or a bad thing.
After a moment, he put the remote down without turning the television on and headed to his bedroom.
Hopefully, the morning would look better.