Collateral Damage [SLOW UPDATES]

Collateral Damage - Confusion

A/N: Tell me what you liked about this chapter guys? Or maybe what you disliked! Don’t forget to vote, comment, and share if you liked it, because it makes me really really happy. The love is honestly one of the best things in the world. I am truly sorry guys for postponing this story for almost 2 months! It is ridiculous, I promise you guys will never have to endure a wait that long. Like I said in my other book, I was thinking about doing a Q&A, and the person with the most interesting question gets a dedication on one of my chapters and a possible shoutout for your story on social media to get it noticed.  So what do you say guys, send me those questions! You can either send them to my twitter link or here on wattpad. There is no need to be shy at all, haha. Big—no huge kisses—love you guys!

ANNE'S POV

“Thanks mom,” I state warmly, giving her a light kiss on the cheek.

“No problem sweetheart,” she replies smiling. “Now eat up.”

She gestures toward the eggs, toast, and bacon she had prepared for me this morning.

As she pads across the smooth, tiled floors of our kitchen, she finds her way over to the couch before settling into it. Only realizing that I would probably like to join her, I start on my meal.

Pursing my lips, I pick at some warm eggs, and shove them into my mouth, chewing carefully. I close my eyes involuntarily letting the spices and seasoning ignite my taste buds. “God, this is really good,” I mumble to no one in particular.

“Why thanks dear,” my mom butts in, from the space over the couch she’s sitting on. My lips part slightly from shock, as I stop chewing mid-way through a mouth full of food. There had to be at least three feet separating the head of the couch she was parched on and the kitchen table where I was dining. I wasn’t even facing her for goodness sake; my back was turned away from her!

How she heard that? I have absolutely no idea.

Scrunching my eyebrows in confusion, I pick at my food once more, planning on finishing it up soon.

Fifteen minutes later, and I’m placing the newly-washed dish cautiously into the dish rack that lay just above our wooden counter. My mom sits on the couch enjoying a re-run episode of ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians’. I don’t know how she can manage to catch up on all the latest shows on TV. That is honestly beyond me, but I promptly join her.

Squeezing myself into the couch next to her which was a one-man sofa, I receive a hard glare.

“You’re not exactly a baby anymore sweetheart,” she states, motioning at the tight-knit space between us.

Her weary eyes look slightly reminiscent as she recollects memories of all the events that occurred when I was a child, before letting out a sigh and gazing at me.

“I’m still a baby in your heart,” I reply matter-of-factly, placing a hand jokingly over my chest. “I’ll always be your—shall I say—‘little girl’.” I wiggle my eyebrows for extra emphasis.

“You’re right,” she admits, reaching out her hand to trace patterns across the area of my lower arm.

“That t-tickles, mom,” I respond, clamping a hand down on my arm; jumpy from her actions. I’ve always been ticklish, and it’s honestly one of the worst disadvantages in the history of them all.

If you know me pretty well and are a male, I would say to never tickle me because it just might result in you losing one of your ‘precious jewels’ or ball sacks in that case.