Hi!
Sorry for the wait! We know you're anxious but Hikari hooked me on Dr. House. I'm addicted now and woke up super late. So there you have, a "late" update because of that. Now, things seem to be moving along... question is, how far along?
So! For the music:
-On That Day - Ásgeir
-Para Qué Sufrir - Natalia Lafourcade
-Coffee - Tory Kelly
-Constant - Jesse Barrera, Jeremy Champion
-Easily - Kevin Chambers
-Ordinary Day - yutaka hirasaka
-Perks of Being a Sunflower - Soft Glas
-Slow - Raelee Nikole
-A Love That Will Last - Renee Olstead
"So, where do you want this?" Gilbert asked the next day. The plants had all waited through the night next to the door, invading the whole space with their greenness and freshness, and now he was helping Anne reorganize his whole place.
He didn't seem to have much say in the matter. And he didn't care in the very least, to be honest. Watching his apartment transform from the place it had been, with his memories scattered all over and Mary's efforts to make it comfortable, to a shared home with her (even if she was still insisting it was not the case) was filling his heart. Anne looked radiant. Even if she went to a flat of her own, or if she returned to PEI, she would do so knowing Gilbert's place had at least a live plant to brighten the space. And she could always give him instructions and text him insistently about them.
"Don't refer to Gertrude that way," she scolded, receiving the pot of his hands and going to the table next to the window. "There she looks perfect, don't you think?"
"Beautiful," he said, not even knowing if he was referring to the plant or to Anne. She smiled. "So… Raymond?" he hoped he remembered the cactus name correctly.
"To the windowsill of the kitchen," Anne instructed. She really had a plan for every single one of the plants, which surprised Gilbert.
"You have spent way too much time locked here. I hadn't even noticed there was space in the windowsill to put anything," he commented. She laughed.
"Well, almost the whole day for… Three and a half months?" she said. "I think we're finished. Only Robert left. He will be by the bookcase, should we carry it together? Looks heavy," she commented, referring to the huge monstera. He shook his head.
"No way you're helping lift that, I'll take it. Just tell me where," he said, walking to the pot. She walked over and signalled a spot and he took the plant as she tried not to look at his forearms. She nodded, looking around, happy with the results. He went to the sofa and sat, and she followed him, sitting with her head on his shoulder. "So, any more plans for today?" he asked, as he adjusted his position so he could hug her and his arm wasn't completely crushed.
"Not really… Maybe we can go for a walk at some point?" she proposed, enjoying just being close to him. She could stay like this forever. He nodded. "What are your hours again, this week?"
"Evenings, with a couple of days of morning and then evening. I should be back around one in the morning," she groaned. "I'm sorry, Anne. I know shift work is tiresome, but I could look for a way to end it if it really bothers you. It's just the way I've worked for the past few years because I lived alone, but I'm now in a place where I could ask for a fix schedule," she made some other noise. "But hey, it's not like you have to wait for me or anything. You just go about your day."
"It's fine. It's really not my place to complain," she said, but he could feel she was unhappy. Maybe he could really speak in the hospital, as Fred had suggested. They would probably agree. "I'll try to wait for you."
"I'd rather you kept with your normal sleep hours. You've been sleeping well and considering everything, that's a win. I wouldn't mess with it," he objected. Anne looked at him, unhappy. He sighed. She hadn't had any more nightmares lately and he wanted to keep it that way. Disrupting her sleeping patterns only augmented the chance of bad dreams.
"Ok…," she finally said, still not convinced. It's not like she was having dreamless nights, just manageable nightmares that didn't warrant a trip to the kitchen and then didn't wake him up. They stood like that for a while, in silence, just listening to the playlist they had been putting together the day before, Natalia Lafourcade singing Para qué sufrir in the background. Gilbert caressing her arm, Anne reading the book she had stretched to reach.
"So how are the books coming along?"
"They are so great, you can't even imagine," Anne commented. "I'm about to finish this one, the last one I had left."
"We can always get some more," Gilbert commented.
"Don't, Gilbert. I feel bad enough about you not letting me pay for anything and not being able to get a job," she said.
"Nonsense. I earn enough to cover for this, and I only wish you to get a job if it's one you're going to enjoy. Not for anything else," he said. She sighed.
"Not everyone gets to do that, you know? Eventually I have to pay for my things, it feels… just wrong staying here and not doing anything."
"Only you are doing everything," he said. "That's how I see it, anyway. Look, Anne, I know you're a fiercely independent woman, but… this thing that's happening now, the whole of 2020, it's not something anyone could have pictured. So don't hold yourself to expectations you would in regular times. When the time comes for you to get the job you dream of, you absolutely will, and then you can pay for anything you want around here," he insisted, the implication of her not leaving very clear.
"Gilbert, I can't keep staying here forever…"
"Why not? We can always be roommates. There are apartments in this building that have two rooms. You get one, me the other, we're set," he proposed, even if he was thinking We get one room, the other is a guest room, and then we have a red-haired kid. Anne laughed.
"You make it sound as if it was that easy," she commented.
"Oh, but it is, Anne-girl," he said softly. "There's no need for you to go anywhere."
"But PEI…"
"PEI is there and will always be," he assured her.
Anne didn't reply anything else. The truth was, she wasn't gone by then because she was not so sure of doing it anymore. She had looked religiously at the travel restrictions daily for weeks. Then about once a week. Last time she had checked, she saw she could probably apply for an exception, writing a letter to the border officials explaining why and how she was relocating and all of her plans to isolate for the fourteen days they requested. But she had postponed writing the letter and filling all the forms, because she couldn't stomach going so far away from Gilbert, even if he was to remain a friend. Which she wasn't so sure about anymore. She just wanted him.
"Let me go fetch something," Gilbert said after a while, suddenly remembering the guitar and how the day before he had wanted to at least see if he remembered anything. Anne sat straighter, leaving him free to stand up, and he went to the room to retrieve the battered black plastic case. Anne's eyes brightened at the sight of it. "Deal is, I try and remember how to play, but you sing."
"Gilbert… I hardly sing anymore," she countered. And he raised his eyebrow. Did it look like he still played the guitar?
"Either you sing as well or I'm not even trying this," he insisted. Because his only motivation to try and play something was to hear her. She looked conflicted. One of the joys of her life had been to see Gilbert play. But singing? The last time she sang when prompted was in a recital in grade 12, just before everything went downhill. From then on, she had only sung sometimes. While cooking. Or driving. Not for anyone to pay attention, just for her to enjoy. Alone.
"Ok," she accepted finally. She wanted to see him play more than she cared about not singing. "What are we singing?"
"I have no idea," he confessed, and they both laughed. "I haven't played since highschool, so it better be something I already knew then? Maybe it does work like riding a bicycle and my fingers remember something, as you said?" Anne bit her lip, trying to think of something. Gilbert tuned the guitar, which after years stored was sounding awful, and then tapped his fingers to the guitar until something came into his mind. That old song. Anne had sung it for a recital and had made him learn it with her so she could practice for weeks before. "I know! Coffee . Remember?"
" Coffee ? From Tori Kelly? The one from…" the recital she had explicitly told Gilbert not to bother to show up to, even if he had helped her practice for so many times, because they had an argument about Winifred. One of the first ones. "But you didn't even go…"
"I did. Only I stayed on the back so you wouldn't notice. I wouldn't have missed it for the world," he confessed, holding her hand. She swallowed.
"I don't think I remember the lyrics," she tried again. Because she wasn't so sure about singing that. At the time, it had felt like a message to Gilbert. Some sort of indirect he never caught on.
"Anne? There's google for that. I have to look up the chords anyway. And we played it so many times it's bound to come easily," he insisted. Because if he was correct about what he remembered of the lyrics, they conveyed everything he was feeling now. How much he missed her, even if he had never had her. How much he missed her, even when she was in front of him. She sighed.
"Ok. But you are to be held accountable for the outcome of this," she said, grabbing her phone and looking for the lyrics as he did the same for the chords. He started a few times tentatively and googled something, before starting again. Anne watched him, how he looked so concentrated, how his hands moved with the same dexterity as when they were young. He finally caught the rhythm of the song.
"You're supposed to sing, Anne," he said chuckling, after playing up to where she was supposed to start a few times.
She blushed brightly. She had been so enraptured watching him she had forgotten about it. She cleared her throat and when he played again, she sang on cue. He forced himself to keep playing when all he wanted to do was stay still, listen to her and guard the moment forever in his memory. No longer needing to watch the chords (bicycle indeed) he was about to block his phone but thought of something and propped it against a book, setting it to record a video as she reread the lyrics, mumbling them. Mentally crossing his fingers for Anne not to find out now (she would probably have his head) he sat back again and started yet again, ignoring the pain in his fingertips. After Coffee , they tried a couple more songs, each even closer to them than the previous one. Anne felt Gilbert's eyes one her and swallowed, not sure of where this was headed. As much as she wanted him, this… was too intimate, somehow. In a good, but want-to-run-away way.
"I have a dough to mix," she announced in a low voice, but didn't move, her eyes trailing down to his mouth. Her starter was surely over its peak, as she had meant to make the dough for the week's bread an hour or so ago.
As Gilbert watched her eyes he decided to test the waters again. After the day before, he was fairly sure she had a clearer mind. For the life of him, he wouldn't kiss her, not yet, but oh. After that day he had gone running with Bear… he was so getting back. If she was indeed open to them getting more involved, that was. And he could see if she would stop him again. He'd rather have her say no to a kiss on the neck than to reject him when he tried to kiss her in earnest. He left the guitar carefully on the open case and looked at her, flexing his hands to get the numbness out. He was so out of practice.
The music still on her ears, Anne was quiet, watching Gilbert mesmerized. Finally, he extended a hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, giving them a soft squeeze. His other hand brushing hair off her face, caressing her cheek, before putting it carefully behind her ears. He leaned even closer and she actually thought he might kiss her then, so close his breath was.
"Your voice really is the stuff dreams are made of, fairy Anne," he whispered in her ear. He leaned back, let go of her hand, closed the case and stood up, grabbing his phone. Everything happened so quickly she didn't even have time to react. "I might go for a run later," he commented, stopping the recording and going to the room to change, not waiting for her to answer, smiling triumphantly. He knew she was frozen in place, blushed and flustered. Just what he wanted.
Anne blinked a few times. Bread. Yes. She stood up and looked around for her earplugs. Distraction. She needed distraction now. Gilbert was so going to be the death of her. She thought for a second and then decided to call Diana, who answered almost immediately.
"Hi there! You're on speaker, we're in the car," her bosom friend answered. Then she heard Jerry and Marie's greeting as well. That was good. The more the merrier. She walked to the kitchen and started measuring the bubbly starter, the flour, water and salt.
Gilbert stood in the threshold, unnoticed, already in shorts and t-shirt. He watched her as she mixed the dough with a wooden spoon before dumping it on the counter, as she asked someone about how the summer holidays were doing. He crossed his arms, watching as she stood, one foot slightly behind the other, as she started to knead, oblivious of him. She looked so good, her arms tense as she kneaded, her legs a counter balance on the floor. Hot as hell, as always, but the way she concentrated only added to it.
An idea came to his mind and he smiled wickedly, walking into the kitchen. She lifted her eyes and watched him, making a sign of how she was talking. He shrugged. All the better for what he had in mind, honestly. He opened a cabinet and took out his water bottle, filling it and adding a couple of ice cubes. They would melt fast enough outside, he knew. Leaving it on the counter, he walked over to where she was, standing behind her. She jumped, surprised, as she had forgotten about him already, concentrated as she was on the dough and Marie's story about her violin class.
Gilbert didn't move, instead resting one of his hands on her waist. Anne inhaled sharply. What was he thinking? She asked a follow-up question, trying her best to ignore him, but then felt how, with his other hand, he pushed all of her hair to one side of her neck. That was… normal, right? Ignoring him again, but starting to feel a bit flustered, she did as best as she could to continue on the conversation. Good heavens, there were also Jerry and Diana there to talk. Gilbert didn't stop, his touches to her becoming increasingly insistent questions. Still denying your body and heart, Anne?
Anne swallowed as she felt Gilbert trail a finger down her spine, and then up again. Oh god, what did he have in mind? What was this teasing? Where was this coming from? He smiled as he saw goosebumps appear on her arms. Good. She kept on kneading, as right now it was the only thing keeping her mind anchored to the moment and not to… was he kissing her on the nape? What on earth…? Do you like this, Anne-girl?
"Anne, you ok? You sound… weird," asked Jerry. She swallowed again.
"All good, Jerry. So.." what were they even talking about? "Where are you headed?"
What they answered, she never knew as she got increasingly turned on by whatever Gilbert was doing, holding her exactly in that place, his hand on the waist pressing so firmly, the other one in her head. He chuckled softly, relishing on her shallow breaths, the raspy voice she had just talked with and how she felt in his hands. Are you going to tell me to stop, Carrots?
Unsure if he should leave it now, Gilbert bit his lips. It seemed like such a waste to go now. This was not like the other day when he was fighting with himself to stay afloat. Either the mad exercise stunt or that horrible night incident had worked, as he felt very much in control of his body, even when he was enjoying this so much. And he really was going to run after this. He inhaled her scent, just because he felt it was the most exquisite odour in the world and sighed. He still wanted to be sure. Have you finally figured it out, dearest?
Gilbert smiled against her neck and couldn't resist nibbling lightly on it, feeling how she tensed her jaw. He had to know what he was doing, she thought, as she was more turned on than ever before in her life, every nerve of her body alive and tingling, the ball of dough being squeezed as a way to relieve something, anything, because she no longer had the ability to coordinate any kneading, her body tense and alight with possibility. He trailed down on her neck, giving her open mouthed kisses down to her shoulder just to taste her a bit, sighing into her skin. Oh, she was as divine as he had imagined. She actually thought she might explode, or implode, or burst into flames right there and then. All she could do was contain a small whimper the Baynard family certainly shouldn't hear. Gilbert either. And she certainly could never let out. That would not do. But Gilbert noticed her strain. He nibbled the lobe of her ear, just as the little cherry on top of all this teasing game. Next time, will you allow me to kiss you, Anne, or will you keep up with this game? I can certainly carry on.
Deciding this was enough, as he could tell she was barely breathing, an actual tiny whimper now hanging in the air, was as blushed as ever and he had gotten all the answers he needed from her reactions and her silence, he gave her a short, firmer squeeze on her waist. "You're exquisite," he whispered in her ear (the opposite to the one with the microphone, as he had some sense) and let her go. "I'm going for my run," he said louder, grabbed his bottle and went, leaving her as a puddle, the dough long forgotten.
"Anne? Still there?" Diana asked on the line. "Was that Gilbert?"
Next morning, Gilbert took out the bread and Anne looked away. When he had come back after his run, she had chosen to ignore the whole episode (what was she supposed to say? I had to go and relieve myself? ) and they had prepared dinner in good, flirty humour, the night relaxed as ever. And now he was cutting the bread she had been kneading.
"This bread looks yummy," he commented, an iteration of the praise he always gave to whatever Anne cooked or baked, but today, as he saw her in the eyes as he said it, it gained a whole new meaning and she couldn't help but flush furiously and turn to serve the coffee. Which he did on purpose, of course. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders since he had gone out to run, after only receiving acceptance, even if not in as many words.
Breakfast was quiet after that, but by no means uncomfortable. He enjoyed the bread, because indeed it was delicious, but what he enjoyed the most was just nibbling at it as he watched her in the eye. She kept a steady level of blush all through breakfast. He chuckled very quietly.
They went to read for a bit before he left, but she couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to decide if it was worth saying anything or if she was supposed to make a next move. Was the ball at her side? At his? Was there even a ball? Gilbert read for a bit before leaving for the hospital, a cute striped linen shirt and the same suspenders he had used a couple of days ago, humming happily as he went to the car.
His good humor couldn't be dampened even by Fred's inquisitiveness. His friend noticed instantaneously that something had happened over his days off, and wasn't taking no for an answer. He just plain didn't seem to believe nothing of consequence had happened with Anne. As is, he hadn't finally kissed her. Or had sex. Or anything. And he would never tell him, the gossip he was, how much he enjoyed teasing her just to see her squirm and blush. So he stayed silent and watched the video he had taken the previous afternoon, lopsided as he had not taken much care as he had propped it over some book, hearing her sing over an earpod as they went for coffee at Timmies.
"Hey Freddie, any good video editing app you know?"
"Video editing? No idea. Ask the nurses, they are almost teens. Bound to know something more about apps than I do. What for?" he asked, holding open the door for him.
"Nothing much. Just something I shot yesterday but it's all… lopsided, for lack of a better word?" he explained. "Look," he showed him the clip he had already saved apart from the rest, about fifteen seconds long. That he had been able to do. And he was going to publish it, so there really was no harm in Fred looking at it. It wasn't like the part where he actually went to tease her. All saved on camera.
"Gilbert Blythe and you keep telling nothing happened?" Fred insisted, after watching the clip. Gilbert smiled innocently. "If I didn't know you better, I would say there's something actually naughty behind that smile. But you're too much of a saint for anything," Gilbert couldn't help but burst out laughing. If only he knew. "By the way, I never knew you could actually play that guitar you kept dragging around every single apartment we lived in as students."
"Of course I play. I just never had the time," he explained. Fred raised an eyebrow. "Or the will, ok, the will. It just brought too many memories I wasn't quite ready to face, but I didn't want to get rid of it."
"So she sings," Fred commented as they walked back. Gilbert nodded. "She has the prettiest voice."
"I know. I used to tell her all the time. But she only wanted to study, study and study, her eyes fixed on becoming a teacher," he answered. "She dropped it too. The singing. Almost didn't convince her yesterday, had to blackmail her."
"How so?"
"She wanted me to play. I offered a trade."
"About the video. Have you tried just editing in the photo app?" Gilbert shook his head and Fred showed him. "There. Now publish the thing and quit that silly grin off your face. It looks like you're actually getting softer and that's about impossible, Blythe."
Anne stayed back and went to the trail to walk. Tried to entertain herself. Ate dinner by herself for the first time in weeks and felt lonely, odd and unsettled. Debated on whether to text Gilbert or not, and decided she didn't want to appear either pushy or needy, because she was a grown woman and would not depend on… him being home to feel good. It just felt strange, after the closeness of his free days.
gilbertblythe tagged your on a post.
What? She opened the notification and was surprised by a small clip of her singing. He was playing the guitar in the background, only a part of him visible. When had he recorded this? Had he recorded the whole time they were playing? Did they actually sound like that?
**Anne S-C (16:50): Seriously? You're sneaking videos now? 😒
**Gil (16:51): Deny you secretly love it 😉
**Anne S-C (16:51): Ugh!
**Gil (16:52): 😘 I know you do. Love it.
**Gil (16:52): As you do with other things you'll never say
**Gil (16:52): I'll see you at breakfast.
He was such a tease! When had he become like that? She decided just to ignore him. Those kinds of comments didn't deserve to be acknowledged. But she smiled (and blushed) nonetheless as she remembered the previous day. She reopened the post. They did sound good, as good as she remembered. Like he had this innate way of following her voice with the notes from the guitar. She scrolled down to the comments and stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes at the same time.
Bashfromtrini: About time you both picked your hobbies again! What about getting together? Will that ever?
Rubycakes: Awwwww you both are the cutest 💞 💞 💞
Beardad: So you did know how to play that thing? And you managed to hide the secret ten straight years? Way to go, callmecordelia!
Janethelawyer: Will you both get the fuck together? My god, you're even more stubborn than my clients
: Blythe! Who's the beauty there? Had it well hidden!
Jerryofgreengables: Now if you'd actually replace the coffee in the song by yourselves, we would get somewhere.
: Groupie number one for the Blythe couple 💚 Even if they deny being a couple.
Iamroyal: Fighting for number one with you.
She blocked her phone. This made no sense. She continued with her day. At least the teen nurses didn't follow his account, because then he'd be flooded with comments. How was he dealing with his phone buzzing the whole time? Did he have it in silence or what?
Eventually it got late enough that she had stopped pretending he would magically appear for dinner and prepared something for herself, not used to eating alone anymore. Which was strange, considering she had lived by herself for the most part of the past six years and had thoroughly enjoyed it. But in the time since they started talking again he hadn't had evening shifts, and it was her first night alone since they were on speaking terms.
Playing with her food, she thought about what to do next. She could read a bit. Or watch a movie. Anne looked up to the sofa bed in front of her, still very much a sofa for the evening. She could open it so he could arrive and not have to do it by himself at midnight. Putting the plate in the washer and after cleaning the kitchen, she went to the living room and organized it for when Gilbert arrived home. She looked at the ready made bed and remembered that night of the fort as her phone buzzed.
**Cole (21:06): Any new developments? Is that the cutest video or what? ❤ How are things doing after that episode with the suspenders? After that "day out" as Gilbert so succinctly put it? Which I still don't believe, you know? I want to know EVERYTHING in case you haven't noticed
**Anne S-C (21:07): I think… well?
**Cole (21:07): Think? Or know?
**Anne S-C (21:07): It's… weird. But comfortable. But good, I think?
Her phone started buzzing and she picked it up.
"Hey there," she greeted Cole.
"How is it weird but comfortable and good? I'm sorry I called you. I have to wait for the clay to dry and have some time, if you don't mind chatting. I just need to finish this tonight or else I would be home by now."
"No, no. All good. Gilbert is working. I just can't explain it. After that night… did I tell you we slept together? Like the act of sleeping. Weeks ago, when I made a fort."
"Do tell. You didn't give me all the details, Nan."
"Well. We did. Sleep. It wasn't like we planned it, we were just finishing a movie, and of course I could have gotten up and gone to my room and left him sleeping there by himself, but… he proposed I stay. And that night was so perfect, it just… Added to it. And then weeks have gone by, and…" she thought if she should give Cole any details of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. It's not like he didn't know most of them, he did. But she didn't want to explain just yet how she had been coming to terms with everything the past few days. "It was so good, Cole. Like the best night sleep I've had in forever. And then… I thought we would maybe repeat it? But it just has not happened and I'm not about to ask him to sleep with me just so I can rest better."
"Why not? He would probably say yes. Heck, knowing Gilbert, he probably is dreaming about it," Cole answered, his voice with a somewhat amused tone.
"I… I wouldn't know how to ask. I mean. I feel like… I'm letting him in. Like you suggested. I'm taking it one step at a time, and I feel like I'm finally getting to the point where I could be comfortable with him. As in accepting there could be something more than friendship, I'm… open to it, now. But from flirting to asking him if I can go sleep with him because I rest better, there's a long distance."
"What you both need is to have sex and do it already. Seriously Anne. I feel the sexual tension all the way over here. It is so evident on our weekly calls that by now it is a recurrent joke on Friday drinks here in Avo, and that call from yesterday was just ridiculous, how you were evidently trying to keep distance but were drawn to each other."
"Cole!" she shut him.
"You know it's true. You're not even denying it. I think Charlie, Josie and Tillie have a bet on when you're kissing first and whether you'll be able to stop at a kiss or not. It's not like someone would interrupt you."
"Cole, I'm warning you…" Anne insisted, annoyed.
"Ok. So for sleeping … Seriously, Anne. Just get on his bed. Don't ask. Just go there, snuggle and sleep. He won't turn you back. For what I know, Gilbert won't ever deny you anything."
"I just snuggle?" maybe she could do that. He didn't seem annoyed when they woke up the other morning and she was still hugging him.
"Yup. Snuggle." Cole answered, absent minded.
"He's not even here, you know? Evening shift. Shitty doctor stuff."
"Even easier, Nan. Get into his bed. He won't even ask, he'll be the one snuggling," he mumbled, "Do you think a darker tone conveys better…?"
"Send me pictures!" She took his question as the opportunity to change the subject
Notes:
So... Gilbert just had to be sure. You know, with Anne saying no that other day and everything? Better to double check, he's studious and cautious like that.
Also, about the music... remember the music? Spotify only has one version of Coffee. Which is not the one we had in mind for Anne and Gilbert to sing. So go watch it now! It's on YouTube. This website doesn't allow for links to be posted... but look for it by the title:
Annnnnd we'll see you on Wednesday, when hopefully, maybe they'll be on the same page. After all, Gilbert double checked. Or triple checked?