The Next Chapter: Twisted Series Next Generation

Chapter 42: Anastasia Larsen

If there is one thing you can expect from me, it is my inability to lose focus in the middle of a conversation.

They would have had my head on a skillet for not paying attention to the queen years ago.

At least I hope that is not what is going through my parents mind when they have to capture my attention for the billionth time.

"So?" Mom chimes in, a hopeful expression graces her face as she sees that tremors no longer shoot through my veins.

My eyes widen, realisation interrupts whatever daydreaming I was induced into like some sort of drug as my attention falls back onto the two individuals who stand in front of me.

Mom staring at me with eyes the size of nickel as she attempts to remain situated and not explode on the spot. Alongside her would be my father who at this point could be mistaken as a mountain with the stoicism he possesses that contradicts his wife comically.

Clearing my throat, I sit up straighter and wave my hand at them. "Sure." I murmur out with unintelligent noises of agreement, letting my gaze fall back on my pastry as I sink my teeth into it and attempt to divert the attention to him.

Watching as my mothers features deflate and she perches her hands over her hips. "Repeat three words I said."

"Three words I said."

Dads fortitude withers as a smile threatens to spill from his lips, the corner of his mouth twitch as he admires the sharpness of his wifes approach.

"Yes yes, we know you are adorable. You kind of have to be, considering the fact that you are your fathers daughter."

The smile on dads face flattens into a straight line, he rolls his eyes while looping his arm around moms torso. "Hilarious princess."

Few moments of attention drifted off of me are ones I treasure very carefully, letting them get lost in each other's eyes as if time slowed. The pastry dangles in my mouth as I inch back and prepare to leave.

"Morning family!" A shrill erupts my eardrums as a bouncy fawn emerges into the large dining room. Charlotte approaches in a flowery, sleeveless dress that has the straps swinging on her narrow shoulders. Intricate designs of roses against sandy white fabric while her feet float in with green boots coated with pink fur on top. Her pigtails swing back and forth as she jumps within the area the rest of the group surrounds.

Her moods have dramatic changes to the point you wonder if you hallucinated her tantrums moments ago.

A large smile breaks out onto my parents expression as they watch her with adoring eyes, and as much as I hate to say it her liveliness does encourage my expression to soften.

There had been no discussion of making up but that was normally how she and I rolled. We let each other simmer then act as if all was well.

Watching as my little sister's eyes widen at the puff pastry that dangles in my mouth, she parts her lips as if she is salivating at the sight and darts her head around in search.

"In the cabinet to your left." I so graciously inform her, she offers me a toothy smile as a thank you while she continues her search.

The sudden disperse of tension eases me as I swivel on my seat to leave.

"Hold it." My mothers stern voice abruptly stops me from leaving. "We are not done talking young lady."

"Ana." My father speaks with that gruff voice of his in a version he attempts to soften. "Keep an open ear to this okay?"

"Okay?" I mutter as I plop the pastry back into my mouth.

Mom releases a breath as she approaches me. "I know you hate discussing your feelings but yesterday's events aren't good to bottled up."