“What does that mean?”

A stern and cold voice spoke out from behind you, no emotion or expression visible on her face— I mean, that was Anastasia for you.

You had made a joke, a “that’s what she said” joke. Everyone laughed, it was funny and definitely not what the conversation was originally about— but at this point, anyone was up for a good laugh. Except for Anastasia, that is.

It wasn’t her fault really. She didn’t understand a lot of things— slang, sarcasm, metaphors— just to name a few. She even had her little notebook where she wrote down new words that she learnt and their meaning. Despite being extremely and utterly terrifying, Anastasia could also be absolutely adorable— but don’t say that to her face; they won’t find your body.

Everyone knew that Anastasia didn’t have a good childhood. She definitely didn’t have a normal one, but she didn’t tell anyone her past. God forbid she could open up to people without them being her ‘master’.

After Anastasia spoke up and asked that question, everyone went silent, trying to figure out a way to explain it to her or just too scared to— and Anastasia’s deathly cold stare didn’t really help with that.

“Was I not heard? I do not understand the joke.”

She tilted her head to the side in confusion, her harsh gaze studying everyone until it finally rested on you. Ice blue eyes staring through yours— and possibly into your very soul.

Anastasia waited for your explanation because you were usually the one that told her these things. Her stoic expression reading your own, the feelings that you felt reflecting on your face. Human feelings. Anastasia didn’t understand what those were either.

You broke eye contact with her (her stare was too scary and intense) and opened your mouth to speak, mustering up a few words to explain the joke to her.