Notes:

Hey!

So I fell asleep and didn't do my homework. Sorry!

Your response to the last two chapter has been amazing. Your comments, truly, are everything. We know they are hard and difficult, and we thank you for seeing that we did what we could to give the topic the respect and honesty it deserves. You can breathe now: while we won't say Anne gets all better in 24 hours, or that it's a straight road and there won't be any relapses... This chapter gives nice room for breathing. There aren't even participants for our "warnings and triggers" section. Just nice uplifting music for you here (just put the dots in the corresponding spaces): open spotify com/playlist/3IDLq5ZkdeY3nbXWRpj1K4?si=r_1a08JlQMO9fMbuNdVBFQ

Also, on a happy side-note, we saw you liked Freddie's story! We're so glad about that. Maybe you'll get more surprises in the future.

Chapter 22

"Are you sure, Anne? You can come in with me, there's no reason for you to wait outside," Gilbert insisted, holding her hand. She nodded. He had insisted she come with him, luring her with the promise of an ice cream or a cake (she felt like a five year old, but she wanted to be anywhere but the apartment). As Fred had predicted, she had woken up self-conscious, embarrassed and with the apparent inability to look at him in the eye.

It had taken a while, but eventually he had convinced her to at least look at him. Then he had proposed breakfast- none of the bread she'd made, but some comforting oatmeal. The one dish he knew how to make well. As she ate she felt better, after having something in her stomach for the first time since the last morning, and it had given her strength and clarity to think of the day ahead. She had admitted to Gilbert she was going to start talking to someone and had tried to apologise, but he had silenced her with a kiss.

"I'm sure I can wait. Are you sure you can get out of work, though?"

"Yes. 90%, anyway. Please call me if you need anything? Or Fred, he's around somewhere. By the way, I gave him your number so he can give you the details of your appointment," she nodded.

"Go, Gilbert!" she insisted. He gave her a small kiss and went inside the building. She went to a nice tree that was close by and sat, resting against its trunk. She closed her eyes, tired. Everything ached and the dull headache didn't seem to respond to anything she had taken so far. She thought about the morning, when she woke up alone in bed and felt frightened for a moment, only to find Gilbert preparing something for her to eat. Something that wasn't any of the bread that gave her nausea, just to look at it and remember her frenzy the day before.

Anne still wasn't so sure about everything that had happened the night before. At one moment she was waking up from a nightmare she couldn't quite shake off, and then it had somehow gotten bad, then worse, until she had seen Fred's brown eyes staring calmly at her as he helped her get out of the horrible flashback. She was worried about the therapy, not knowing if maybe she was beyond all cure.

**Fred Wright (10:49): Morning Anne! How do you feel today? Can I call you?

**Anne S-C (10:49): Sure. You can even come. I'm by the nicest oak in the hospital, next to the parking lot.

**Fred Wright (10:49): On my way.

"Hello," she heard someone greet her. She opened her eyes and saw a blonde doctor, fashionably dressed, dark lenses and all even when he was wearing his white robe. "But if you aren't quite the angel. Have we met before?" Anne rolled her eyes, decided to ignore him and looked at her phone again.

**Anne S-C (10:52) I hate creepy flirty guys.

"What's your name, my love?"

"First, I'm not your love. And second, I'm busy," she said, as she saw Fred going out the door. She got up, ignoring the doctor's hand. "Fred! How are you?" she went to his extended arms, and he hugged her.

"How are you, Anne? You look good today," he said. She smiled brightly, forgetting the other man. "Come, let's go upstairs," Fred said, passing an arm around her shoulder and guiding her. Somehow he always made her feel good. He had a calming presence. They went to his office and she noticed a couple of nurses staring at her, but she just ignored them. "Have you let Blythe know you're here?"

"No, let me…"

"I'll text him, no worries," Fred said, typing quickly on his computer where he had a tab with his conversations.

**Fred (10:57): Anne's with me. My office. Jones was already trying to snatch her, the git he is.

**Gilbert Blythe (10:58): I hate that ass. Gives me a creepy feeling. I'll fetch her there, I'm about to go into Yang's office. Cross your fingers!

"Ok, so. Patel can talk with you at 2:30. Are you free then?" Anne almost laughed, but bit her lip, nervous at the prospect of going into her very first therapy session.

"Yes. I'm unemployed, Fred. I have all the time."

"I don't know if you have plans," Fred answered, smiling gently. "About this, don't worry beforehand, ok? Go with an open mind. Be honest with him. He will never judge you. Nothing you say is wrong. Maybe make a list before of the things that worry you the most, recurring dreams you may have, anything of the sort. Symptoms, you may experience… It may help the both of you craft a plan. Don't dwell on it after, ok?" Anne nodded. List of bad things. List of ailing things. Don't worry after. She bit her lip again. "What's your worry now?"

"I don't want to take pills," she said, horrified at the prospect.

"No one said you had to. Maybe it's better for you, maybe you can carry on only with therapy. Both are equally fine. You are nothing less for needing one or the other. When you are sick on your stomach you don't mind taking medication, don't you?"

"No…" She had never actually thought of it that way.

"There you have it, then," Fred smiled at her. "So I'll send you the information in your email, and you can take it from there. Meet with him as often as he recommends and do any homework he might leave you, ok?" she nodded. "Don't worry about the cost of this, Anne. I promise you, it's covered."

"By whom?"

"It doesn't matter," Fred said. "So, tell me about your plans for today."

"Dr. Yang, how are you?" Gilbert greeted him as he entered the office. His boss got up from his desk and went to meet him. A man in his sixties, he was affable as a bear and always had a keen ear to listen.

"How are you, dr. Blythe? You look worse for wear today, I heard you were having some troubles yesterday?"

"I have, actually. It's why I need to talk to you. Before anything, though, this is for you," he said, extending a paper bag filled with the best of Anne's bread. "My girl made it, and we're happy to share."

"My, but it is so much, boy!" the doctor said, peering inside and smelling, signaling Gilbert to take a seat and taking his own.

"It isn't. She baked way more. I already stopped in the staff room to leave some, don't worry about it."

"This is delicious. Smells like heaven. Pass my thanks, please. So, what can I help you with? I've noticed you're much happier these days, is that because of your girl?" Gilbert smiled slightly, somewhat shy at being caught like that. Dr. Yang left the bag next to his umbrella, looking at him with patient affability.

"It is, actually. Things have taken a recent turn for the better, which is why I asked you about changing the schedule in the first place."

"And about time! Here I was wondering if I was going to retire before you embraced your experience and degree and asked for a regular schedule. You're one of the best oncologists in this hospital and here we have you roaming the hallways in the middle of the night as if you were a fresh resident. About time, boy," Dr. Yang conceded, and Gilbert felt his ears go red. Fred had told him this for years, now, but to have the chief doctor of the hospital say it as well was too much. "So, are you finally going to stop pretending with that ring? Didn't seem to guard this one girl off."

"Oh, I've known her since we were kids. She did know it was a ruse. I just keep using it out of habit, you know?" he had never actually talked about the ring with Anne, but then again, she hadn't asked, either.

"I can imagine, though. So, this rough couple of days, anything you want to share?"

"Remember how we said I could do the evening shift until Canada day and then start regular hours after coming back?" Dr. Yang nodded. "I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you a favour. Anne… she's been having a hard time, and it is hard for me now to leave her alone for so long, especially at night."

"Is she sick, your Anne?" Dr. Yang leant forward, worried.

"She's dealing with some mental health issues. Dr. Wright is helping her get some help as we speak. Nights are harder," Gilbert explained, not wanting to give much away unless necessary. His boss nodded. "So, I wanted to ask you… Could I have today as an exception, out of my vacation days, and then start tomorrow at regular hours? I understand that this is not what we originally discussed, but I never would have thought I would be in this situation."

"Would that help her feel better?" Dr. Yang asked after a moment, joining the tips of his fingers.

"I believe so. At least I could care for her during the nights, if need arises," Gilbert tried, being honest.

"How are you going to cover for your patients?"

"I can be on call. I don't mind being called at any time. I was going to, anyway. As for the rounds and treatments during evenings, I have taken the liberty to talk with Dr. Butcher and Dr. Kemara to see if they could cover for me this week. They have agreed to do so, in the case you accepted letting me change the schedule sooner," Gilbert explained, anxious.

He needed Dr. Yang to accept. He could not imagine leaving Anne alone. The other doctor stayed in silence, then checked his computer and wrote some things. Gilbert tried his best not to fidget, thankful with Fred, not for the first time, for insisting in his change of wardrobe. He could not imagine having this conversation in scrubs. Finally, his boss turned to look at him.

"Look, dr. Blythe, this is not regular. However, I have received constant praise about you, both from the staff and from the patients. Dr. Shephard came here not two weeks ago to talk to me about your advances with difficult patients and the bone marrow research program you're participating in," The way Dr. Yang seemed to know everything that happened was beyond him. But he hadn't come for praise. He had come for a day off and a change of schedule. "You have your day. Keep the phone on you, I fully expect you to come at the minimum emergency. And talk to dr…. Well, to those doctors about covering you, ok?"

"Absolutely, sir. Thank you. Thank you so much," Gilbert felt so much relief he couldn't quite voice it.

"Go care for your girlfriend. And bring her one day, I'd love to meet her," he said. Gilbert nodded. Was this any other day, he would bring her right that moment, but he just wanted to take her to get some chocolate cake, snuggle away the whole day and pray she wouldn't get any more nightmares. "I'll see you around, have a good day, dr. Blythe," he dismissed him. Gilbert nodded, getting up, and shook his hand.

**Gilbert Blythe (11:18): On my way to Fred's office. Are you still there?

**Carrots (11:19): Yes, I'll wait for you.

"Hey," Gilbert greeted Fred from the threshold. "Want to get going?" he asked, turning to Anne. Now that everything was sorted out, he wanted to go quick.

"Blythe, so what did dr. Yang said?"

"Regular hours. Starting tomorrow. Butcher and Kemara are covering for me on evenings and I will be on call forever, but it's a small price."

"What does that mean?" Anne asked.

"I have today off to be with you. Then, starting tomorrow, I work from 9:00 to 5:00, and come at any other time if they call me about an emergency," he explained. She looked stunned. Could he actually do that? No more shifts? "Dr. Yang, that's my boss, was almost relieved. You have nothing to worry about, Anne."

"Almost relieved?" asked Fred, a cheeky, knowing smile on his face.

"You shut it, Wright," Gilbert warned, but he was smiling. Anne got up and said her goodbyes, accepting the hand Gilbert was offering. "So, ready to go for an adventure?"

"Of course, where to?"

"Supermarket," Gilbert commented conspiratorially. Anne laughed. That sounded good. She hadn't been to one since March and finally she could show Gilbert all the things he never got right in the shopping list. As they walked down a corridor, she noticed again the stares from the nurses, who couldn't be over 20-years-old and had the same uniform, but this time accompanied with giggles. Gilbert acknowledged them with a quick nod, but didn't stop walking and seemed to pick up the pace. He so was not going to engage in conversation with any of them while Anne was present. They would ask all the wrong questions and he would be knee-deep in trouble.

"Gil, they're staring… why?"

"Maybe your cute instagram posts? Fred says you're quite the influencer around here? Whatever that means?," he commented absent mindedly as they finally got to the parking lot.

"You think my posts are cute?"

"Of course I do. I look forward to them every day," he said, slowing down and looking at her in the eye. Gosh, it was hot in June. Now that he was done with official business, he took off the bow tie and put it in the pocket, opening a couple of buttons on his shirt.

"But you never comment anything," she protested, and he noticed a bit of a pout on her mouth. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss, chuckling.

"Doesn't mean I don't like them. I'll comment on them if that will make you happy, ok?" she smiled brightly, and she almost seemed like there wasn't any worry in the world. Going into the car, he set off to a supermarket close by that usually had a good selection. Anne was looking around, as if it was the first time she went to one and he realized it probably was the first time she went into any kind of shop in months. "I actually have your list, but do you want anything else? We have all day."

"Do we?" Gilbert stopped to think. It all depended on her talk with Fred.

"What time is your appointment?"

"2:30…" he nodded.

"Then we have until two-ish. To give some time to eat something. I think two hours is plenty of time?" she nodded brightly and they set off. He concentrated mainly on the contents of the list, which he knew they actually needed, and Anne added more things and corrected him on brands and things, now that she had the options in front of her eyes and was not shopping blindly through his. He hummed to You Send Me by Sam Cooke, the song that was currently playing on the speakers of the supermarket, as Anne grinned at the selection of flours and picked a couple.

"See? This is organic and has no artificial flavours. This one isn't. Gil, honestly, you're the doctor here. Oncologist at that. Don't you keep an eye on this?" she asked. He shrugged. He honestly didn't.

"You can be glad I don't eat canned ravioli anymore?" he said, trying to distract her. She rolled her eyes. They were almost at the end. "Come, I want to check if they have something in the bakery," he told her, steering the shopping cart in that direction. Anne looked at the showcase as Gilbert received the package he had ordered in advance.

"I wish they had something vegan," she said sadly, her back to him, as he put the package on the cart. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes glued on a chocolate cake. Gilbert chuckled.

"I'm sorry, Carrots. Come, maybe we'll find something," the guy that had handed Gilbert the box was about to say something, but silenced himself and smiled as Gilbert winked at him. "Anything else we're missing?"

"Chocolate ice cream? If there's no cake…" she said sadly. "I really have to learn how to bake stuff other than banana bread. Last time I tried a cake it turned horribly.

"You can practice. I don't mind," Gilbert proposed, as she picked the same tub Fred had offered when they visited. They paid (Gilbert refused her payment, as usual, and she blushed, again) and finally they got to the apartment. "Go take a short nap. You look tired. I'll prepare lunch, ok?" She nodded, yawning, not realizing at the moment she was trusting him with the task of cooking. She was really tired right now. He gave her a hug, a kiss, and sent her on her way.

Looking around the kitchen, where they had put everything out, he thought about what to cook. He still did not know how to do so. With her instructions he managed, but he couldn't come up with an idea for a salad to save his life.

**Gilbert Blythe (13:15): Freddie. What should I put into a salad?

**Fred (13:16): Are you serious? 😑

**Gilbert Blythe (13:16): I wouldn't ask otherwise Salad?

**Fred (13:16): Send me a picture of your fridge? Might be easier?

Gilbert did and soon was following instructions, trying his best to remember what Anne had told him and asking Fred before any initiative. Just in case. Until he was happy with the result. He peered into his room, and saw that she was curled up, a throw covering her. Looking at the time, he decided it would be better to wake her so she could eat before her appointment. He went to sit by her side and caressed her hair softly, She opened her eyes after a moment.

"Time to eat, Anne-girl," he said. She smiled as she stretched, feeling recovered. They ate mostly in silence and soon it was time for her to have her call. Anne was nervous, trying to recall Fred's tips, and was writing on a sheet of paper things that came to her mind. Gilbert just scrolled on his phone, trying to give her space. "Do you want to be in the bedroom, in the living room? I can leave you alone, even go out of the apartment if that makes you more comfortable."

"There's no need for that, Gil. I can just go to your room," she said, going to retrieve her laptop from the bookcase. "I'll get going now."

"Call me if you need anything?" she nodded, and he got up to clear the table. He organized the kitchen, brewed some tea and debated on whether to bring her some or not. Maybe next time, when she wasn't so nervous?

**Gilbert Blythe (14:56): I'm sorry I'm a nosy git. How long are these appointments? I can't believe I forgot.

**Fred (15:01): About one hour. Why?

**Gilbert Blythe (15:02): Because I am, in fact, a nosy git? And I wanted to draw her a bath as you suggested, but don't want it getting cold.

**Fred (15:02): Might be a nosy git, but a nosy git in love. You're cute 😉 Patient coming in. Bye.

Anne was soaking in the tub Gilbert had prepared for her. She had brought her book, thinking she might read for a bit, but it lay forgotten on the floor. She just kept repeating in her head everything she had just discussed with dr. Patel. Not only about the orphanage experience, but also about her worries concerning relationships after talking with Gilbert the day before. About the possibility of maybe letting go. Of maybe sex beng enjoyable. He never seemed surprised, never said a judging word, and only ever asked her questions to bring out what she was really thinking. If someone had ever told her therapy would be this way, maybe she would have caved in before. She felt tired, but relieved.

Playing with the water, pushing the bubbles from one side to the other, she enjoyed her time alone there. It felt good to be alone and at ease after last night when everything had seemed so dooming. Gilbert kept sending her worried looks, even though she assured him she was really feeling better after talking with Fred and that she had not had a nightmare the rest of the night. Still. She did feel better, the headache finally subsiding. Washing her head, she decided it was enough. She wanted some of that ice cream and for Gilbert to hug her through a movie or while they read or anything.

"Was your bath good?" Gilbert asked when Anne curled next to him in the living room, her hair still on a towel, her pajama shorts and an old t-shirt of his. He left the book he was reading aside and hugged her, giving her a kiss on the head, over the towel. She felt so relaxed she closed her eyes.

"It was perfect. Almost got all the pains out. Thank you," she mumbled, burrowing her face in the familiar scent of his shirt as he chuckled, caressing her back. She sighed.

"Which ones stayed?"

"Which what?"

"Pains. Maybe I can help. Rub your back or something," he proposed. She thought about it for a second, the images from the massage she had given him coming to the front of her mind. She wasn't so sure about taking her shirt off. But a massage would be nice. Gilbert sensed her hesitation. "You can stay in your pajamas, you know?"

"Ok, then. It's mainly on the shoulders, anyway," she accepted, leaning forward so he could move. He turned, and started massaging her over the t-shirt she had slipped on, one of his old ones, soft and thin black fabric. Finding quickly the knots in her shoulders, he worked through them as she hissed in pain. "Must it hurt so bad?"

"I'm sorry, Anne-girl. You're just very tense, and it shows on your muscles. I can put something for the pain if you want," Gilbert commented. He was trying to be as composed and detached as he could from having both his hands on her shoulders.

"No, it's fine," Anne said, closing her eyes. He continued for a moment and she tried to focus on the music he had on, Pyra by Monma Cocabona, and not on the pain or his hands. Eventually it started to feel better and she sighed, turning to look at him. His eyes were focused on her shoulders, his hands working methodically. How could he be so invested in everything he did, was a mystery to Anne. "Thank you, Gil. Feels loads better now."

"I can keep going, if you want," he said. Looking at one small tear on the old t-shirt seemed to be doing the trick of diverting his attention. She shook her head. It was starting to feel more good than painful and she was not that sure about his mood.

"I actually only want ice cream…" Gilbert laughed and stood up, offering his hand.

"Let's go for ice cream, then. And maybe something else… could I entice you to have some chocolate cake?" he said as she took it, seeing how her eyes lit up.

"You didn't! But I watched and they all had eggs and stuff!"

"Ordered it in advance. So, cake with ice cream?" she nodded and he smiled, happy at how she enjoyed little things in life. They went to the kitchen and he served her a generous portion, a smaller one for himself. "Is that towel part of your outfit?"

"Only until it dries some? Then I'll untangle the whole mess while we watch a movie or something," his look changed, as if he was wondering something. "What?"

"Can I help you with that?" Anne frowned, confused. "With the untangling, I mean," he explained, and she saw how the tips of his ears turned pinkish.

"Well, if you want, but there's no fun in that," she said, grabbing the dishes and going back to the living room. Brushing hair was annoying and boring and about the one thing she had enjoyed about very short hair. Gilbert disagreed with that statement. Anne's hair, in his hands? For a while? Please, it sounded so good. He went to the bathroom to grab the brush she usually used and sat again behind her as she picked a movie.

"How do I do this?" he asked, taking off her towel and leaving it aside. It did look like a mess. A lovely, red haired mess he had no idea of how to tame. She laughed.

"Just start on the bottom, small section, working your way up. If you get bored I finish," she said.

But Gilbert didn't get bored, just relishing in how the red seemed to be changing colours as it dried, how it reflected the light and felt as soft as he always imagined. He didn't even noticed what Anne put on the tv, so engrossed he was brushing her, sliding his hands up and down her hair. She wasn't paying much attention to the series either, reconsidering her whole relationship with hair brushing. Maybe she could convince Gilbert to do it every day? His fingers as he grabbed the sections felt good, and he seemed to be brushing directly against her back- which was ticklish in a good way. What she had been able to brush off with the cake after the massage was now coming full force. And he was still as collected and methodical. Eventually, Gilbert ran out of excuses to keep brushing and set the brush next to the empty plates.

"Thank you," she said, turning to look at him in the eyes. Was that a small blush on her cheeks?, he thought, trying not to smirk. Not knowing how she felt today after her meltdown, he had done everything he could to reign any instinct, not wanting to take any advantage of the situation. So he had massaged in a careful but detached way. He had brushed trying to separate what he was doing from her. And he had done well, he thought. Until he saw her blush and felt his mouth go dry. He cleared his throat.

"So, have I graduated brushing?" Gilbert asked, trying to dissipate the silence and keep the mood light. Anne blushed even deeper, nodding. It had felt so nice to feel his hands on her shoulders and then caressing her head and her nape as he tried to gather all the hair as he brushed. She had remembered the first morning they were together, when they had made out over the kitchen island. That had not happened any more, with him being careful, loving but controlled. How could he be so controlled? That had felt good, even when she was trying to reign himself. If she had allowed herself to… enjoy it fully, how good could it have been?

Gilbert nodded in response, putting carefully behind her ear a strand that was going over her face. He should go prepare tea or something, but instead felt glued to the sofa as he saw Anne watch him as if she was considering something, her eyes slipping quickly over his mouth and then somewhere else. She wanted to kill him and his self determination, he thought as his resolve decreased.

"Anne…" he whispered, with the intention of offering anything to drink that gave him an excuse to get up, but instead staying silent as he admired how her freshly brushed hair framed her face, all blue, wide, wondering eyes. She bit her bottom lip and he sighed, shaking his head slightly. " I can't do this," he mumbled quietly to himself, annoyed, lowering his gaze. "May I kiss you?" he asked clearly, watching her to the eyes, desperation in his voice because he felt so torn between feeling he was somehow taking advantage and thinking she might want this as much as he did. She nodded, as if somehow he had voiced the question in her mind.

Gilbert moved forward, his hand to the nape of her neck, tangling with the slightly wet hair, looking Anne in the eyes as she turned so they were front to front. Still an inch of two between them. He took a couple of breaths, still undecided. Anne was having none of it.

"Contrary to what you think, I'm not going to break, Gilbert," she whispered, her hand going to his cheek. He chuckled, ashamed and relieved at the same time, his forehead against hers. "I want this, Gil… I just," she said, closing her eyes. How to voice this?

"I don't want you to feel I'm taking advantage of this," he explained, as honest as he could, leaning back a little, kissing her forehead. He could control himself.

"What? No! I just. I want this. I want to see how it is. I just don't know anymore what is supposed to… Or what I'm supposed to…" she blushed again, uncomfortable, but did not let go of him. She wanted this. Gilbert recalled the conversation before everything went so hard the night before. Their faces still so close.

"Anne? We're a team, remember?" he said, looking at her in the eyes. She nodded, and he saw her instantly relax. They were a team, he was right. "Anything we do here, we're doing it together and we are learning together. I know as little about you as you do about me in this regard, doesn't that sound like a fun challenge?" he smiled softly and she nodded again. She seemed more relaxed, which relaxed him in turn. "Can you trust me as much as I trust you?" he asked lastly, and when she nodded again he moved forward to kiss her.

Anne corresponded quickly, tangling her hand on his hair and bringing him closer to her. How could she have gone so many years without kissing him? She nibbled on his lower lip for a second and he granted her access, and she explored every bit of him as she felt his arms envelope her in a tight embrace. They separated just a little and Gilbert looked at her.

"Is this alright?" he asked, not sure yet about how she felt about all this.

"Gilbert, it is," she replied. "Unless I say something is not, it is alright," she insisted.

"I still prefer to ask," she shook her head and kissed him again to silence him, because his words felt stupid, somehow.

"I trust you. I know implicitly you won't take advantage," she argued, before kissing him again. He chuckled into the kiss.

"We might have different views on that," he said when she let go and started trailing kisses along his chin and his jaw.

"We might. In which case I would say something and trust you to stop," she said softly to his ear, causing shivers to go down his spine. "Is this ok, Gilbert?" she asked, a bit of a tease in her tone, and he thought it was a ridiculous question. Nothing she did to him could not be ok, he wanted all of it, more of it, all the time. Oh. She leaned back a bit when he didn't answer.

"It is! Goodness, Carrots, it is ok!" he said desperately, wanting her to just kiss him again. She giggled and leaned forward again.

"See what I mean?" she said in between little nibbles to the lobe of his ear that felt so good he had no words, he was just stunned with sensation there. She leaned back a bit to look at him, all dark eyes, blush in his cheeks to match hers, his hair slightly ruffled after she had run her hands through it.

When Gilbert leaned forward to kiss her again, Anne leaned back to rest on the sofa, taking him with her. He kept his balance over her with one arm as he kissed her and adjusted a bit when he let go of her lips for a second, straddling her in a way that didn't crush her as he nibbled his way down her neck towards the t-shirt collar. He felt her squirm underneath her and smiled into her neck.

"Carrots, you're liking this?" he asked, not looking up to her as he licked a bit of her collarbone. She took in a shaky breath of air and swallowed, trying to compose herself. Gilbert noticed and nibbled just so on the bone that he felt her squirm again. "You like this, don't you, Anne-girl? You can enjoy this, you don't have to hold back," he insisted, kissing her neck again as he caressed her waist with the hand he was not using for balance, feeling more turned on by the second.

Anne was trying to breathe, caught in between trying to control herself and trying to let go, when she felt Gilbert's breath in her ear. "I like hearing you moan, when you feel like moaning," he whispered slowly. If she felt like being quiet, that was good. If she was fighting to keep quiet, that wasn't. And as if his words were magic, she let go a breath, a whimper, something that told Gilbert that she was, indeed, liking this. "I love hearing you when you enjoy yourself," he whispered, and resumed kissing her along the collar of the t-shirt, the hand he had on her waist toying with the hem. Anne felt a bit of his hand brush against the skin of her waist and realised how much she needed him to touch her, but felt at a loss of how to go about that. Her hands were still on his hair, tangled in the soft curls.

She trailed one on his back and he felt shivers running down it, going all the way down to his crotch. As she explored, pulling his shirt out of the pants he was wearing, he gave little bites alongside her jaw, relishing on the tiny noise she was no longer holding so much. She seemed to fight with something and he realised she was trying to do something about the suspenders. He leaned back, slid them down his shoulders as she looked at him, biting her lip. Why did the image of Gilbert in suspenders do this to her? He took the shirt out of the pant all the way, as it seemed like she had been trying to do that, and leaned forward again.

"Just…" she said, as she noticed he was leaning down again. He stopped and looked at her, full attention. She blushed. "Could you…" He shot up one eyebrow.

"Tell me, Carrots," he wanted her to communicate. To know she could voice whatever she wanted. She took some air.

"Would you mind taking off your shirt?" she asked quickly. He leaned forward and gave her a hot, quick kiss.

"I would not mind," he said, undoing a couple of buttons and sliding it up, throwing it to the floor. Hot as it was outside, he had not worn any undershirt that day and she just admired his bare chest, touching it lightly with her fingers as he closed his eyes. Her feather-like touch did strange things to his insides and he let out a small hiss of pleasure. She took off her hand. "That feels nice, Anne-Girl," he said, his voice raspy, and he felt her fingers again, less doubtful but equally curious. "Goodness, Carrots, the things you do to me…", he mumbled, his eyes closed, all the nerves of his chest on fire. She leaned up a little and kissed him on the chest lightly, and felt him go tense.

"Is that good?" she asked, nervous. He opened his eyes, meeting hers.

"So good," Gilbert nodded, swallowing, and moved forward to kiss her hungrily, but then pulled her back with him so she was on top of him. Anne answered in kind, her hands going around his waist, feeling how soft his skin was, how firm he felt underneath her fingers. His hands going to her waist over the t-shirt and slowly moving higher. The other day she had not minded him going up. So that would be his standard, unless otherwise stated, he decided, as he brushed her nipples over the fabric with his thumbs. She inhaled sharply and he did it again.

"Gil… that," she said, her voice shaky.

"You like that, Carrots?" he asked, biting lightly at her neck, his hands still on her breasts. She did not like it. What she was feeling was beyond a word as mundane as like .

"Do… yes," Anne answered, closing her eyes, not thinking coherently. The way he touched her undid her, but even if it did, this didn't feel like near enough. He kissed her lower, over the fabric, wishing he could just take it off. But he wouldn't ask if she didn't take the initiative, not yet. When he kissed her near the nipple, she couldn't suppress a moan, her hips moving slightly forward, surprising even herself with her boldness, and felt Gilbert's lip move towards a smile.

"That's quite right, Anne-girl, express it," he mumbled. Anne could not stand this. She needed to feel him, and having her hands on his skin was not enough. Following the length of his arms, her hands went over his and guided them, for Gilbert's surprise, to the lower hem of the t-shirt.

She slid them under the fabric, his hands now on her stomach, and then took hers back to his shoulders, her nails going slowly over his skin. He hissed at the feeling, his hands in unchartered territory, not daring to move them from where Anne had left them. She had expected her gesture to be inviting enough. Anne wanted to be touched, damn, and Gilbert kept being this gentleman she didn't know how to handle. He moved over to kiss her, mainly to distract himself from his own hands. She corresponded, but ended the kiss short, her hands moving to the sides of his face.

"Anne, I…"

"This is ok, Gilbert," she forced herself to say. She swallowed under Gilbert's dark eyes. Was she giving him permission to… "touch me, please," Anne said, the whisper of a voice, her face blushed not only for her excitement but for how self-conscious she felt asking for something as forward as that.

Gilbert moved forward to kiss her again, more passionately than before, and she corresponded in earnest this time. He moved his hands slowly, feeling the skin he could not yet see, its softness and its warmth, and eventually he met her breasts. He repeated the movements she had seemed to like the other day, brushing her nipples with his thumbs, feeling how hard and erect they were. She whimpered into his mouth and he moved to kiss her neck, as she supported herself on his shoulders, leaning lower.

"I love to see you this undone, Carrots," he murmured against her skin. "I love to be the one that makes you feel this," he continued, nibbling her jaw as she tried to suppress a moan. He would surely not like this. One, ok, but her all noisy? He almost felt her bit her lips, noticing the tension on her neck muscles. "Don't keep them in, Anne-girl. If you feel something, let it out…"

"I… I don't…" Anne tried, not understanding his ability to form coherent sentences. How could Gilbert Blythe be so collected all the time? Especially when he was doing this to her?

"You do know, love. Just be you," Gilbert answered, pinching a nipple slightly with his fingers as he licked her collarbone slowly, eliciting a strong moan from her accompanied with a definite movement of her hips and making him moan in return. If this was with clothes, how would it be when they finally had sex? When he could actually make love to her? "Yes, Carrots. Move as you feel," he said, a strained voice. He had strived to talk to her, to reassure her that she was not doing anything wrong, but it was getting harder and harder to continue.

Anne moved again, feeling how delicious he felt against her, in awe at the fact that he, too, was undone enough to moan. "Anne, yes…" he tried, trying to motivate her to keep the movements, his hands going to her bottom to bring her closer to him, as closest as he could. They breathed heavily, no need to speak, finding some kind of rhythm that was bringing them closer and closer to a release. She felt a knot forming inside her, something she had never felt while with a man. She felt torn. Could she actually do this? Was this possible? Was it too much? She slowed down. Maybe some other day.

Gilbert felt the change in the movement instantly and, while he so wanted to protest, decided not to push it. They had all their lives, and this was beyond anything he thought he would be doing anytime now. He would just get a shower to get it down, if needed, he decided, and moved to kiss her again. A slower, quieter kiss as she stopped moving completely.

"You are so perfect it makes no sense, Carrots," he whispered as she curled on his chest and felt her sigh, shakily. His hands moved slowly to her back, under the t-shirt, and caressed her slowly, soothingly, up and down her spine. They stayed like that an undefined amount of time, eventually her sliding off him and resting next to him along the sofa.

"Thank you, Gil," she murmured after a while.

"Whatever for?" he asked, confused.

"Helping me be strong," she mumbled into his chest. He moved and kissed her on the head.

"You have nothing to thank me for. You are strong all by yourself, I'm just in along for the ride, to cheer you along any step," he said.

Notes:

Ok, so feeling a little better today than on last Wednesday? :)

Tell us, you expected any of this? Gilbert fulfilling a weird, hair-related dream? Gilbert trying to cook with Fred's help? Annnnnd cute nurses saw Anne in person for the first time. I can actually imagine many of you holding your breath to see if something was going to explode. It didn't. Yet.

Well, tell us your thoughts! We're curious about what you think.