Edward didn't say anything to that. Perhaps because it's the best answer to an order he can't say he'll listen to and doesn't feel apologetic about not following this time.



He's casually leaning against the front of the small general store next to the hospital. At least he looks it to a normal person. To at least one specific person, the casual posture is far too still and his hands are too tight on the things he's holding, and his golden gaze is hard, concerned-confused-volatile, even though it lacks the ability to be darker than a stunning gold-amber today.