So... did you let out a sigh after nothing heavy happened last chapter? It was needed and nice and fluffy and relaxing. We all want some kind of variation of Gilbert Blythe. And Fred. As many of you already figured out, we tend to put things here and there from the series, or details that come again chapters later in the story. This is just to say that we usually don't put characters randomly unless they are of some significance for the story.

Anyway! We're in for a good week. Or day? Anyway, a good chapter to start with. Better yet: music and a good chapter. open .dot. spotify .dot. playlist/2OOayH5hh2NQMdFofGnwOe?si=Ko35LDU5TECpCbS9HzbVDg

Oh! on other news, a reader kind of convinced us to upload on Wattpad. We're... crashing with technology, but the first chapter is there in case any of you reads there as well and wants to start over. We will be updating once a week, probably, so it will just be behind this. But if you enjoy a second reading... there it is. We are AnoukeHikari, because there you can't co-author :(

So, let's get on with this.

Chapter 23

"Ok, Diana, let's do this!" Anne told her bosom friend, who looked more worried than excited at the prospect of doing her hair in a formal updo on her own. Marie was by her side, a mixture of properness and mischief, the perfect mix of her parents. A week or so had passed after she'd had that bad nightmare (she didn't want to call the whole thing by any other name) and she had met the therapist three more times. They had agreed to meet every other day for at least a couple of weeks and then only once or twice a week, depending on her progress. This was Gilbert's last work day before their trip to Montreal, and his regular schedule had done wonders for Anne's sleep patterns. If anything, she felt great that morning.

"Anne, I'm still not sure about this…" Diana replied.

"But, mom! You said you would do my hair as well!" Marie insisted and Anne laughed.

"Look, we are recording this and then you can look over it at a later day, ok? And if you have doubts before the wedding, you call me and that's it," Anne tried to comfort her. She saw the figure of Jerry approach the camera and put himself onto the frame, causing Anne to roll her eyes. "Must you interfere with everything?"

"When there's either of you three involved, of course. What are we playing at today?" he asked, putting his daughter on his legs.

"We're playing at the distance hair salon!" explained Marie. "But your hair is not long enough to play, dad."

"Is it not?" Jerry asked, skeptic. Over the years he had let his hair grow a bit more and kept it on a small ponytail that Anne still could not understand how Diana and her properness standed.

"Of course not dad, it is too short for braids!" Marie insisted and Anne laughed in spite of herself.

"Jerry, seriously, I'm trying to help your wife, here…"

"I can watch."

"So nosy!" Anne exclaimed, expecting him to move. But he didn't. So she groaned and Jerry laughed. "Well, we are doing this either way. You're just going to make a full appearance on our video. Might as well make yourself useful, pay attention so you can help Di that day."

"Anne, I'm not sure about this…"

"You married him, you deal with him," Anne said, half exasperated, but in a good mood. "So, ready? We're going to start parting these two sections and clipping them away…"

"But why would you do that?" Jerry asked.

"Jerry! Silence! So, you part them because those are going to be your braids and that's the hair you'll use for them. You don't want it to get mixed. So…" Anne continued the explanation, going slowly, as Diana repeated her movements all the way in PEI and Jerry asked obnoxious questions that annoyed Anne but made her laugh. He tried helping Diana until she slapped his hand and he sat in his chair, only passing bobby pins as directed. They undid the whole thing and repeated the process one more time. By then, Jerry was still sitting next to Diana and Marie, but was reading a newspaper and interjecting only occasionally. But he could not help looking at Diana, who did look very nice, once every couple of minutes.

"Do you really think this is going to be good for you to publish, Anne?"

"Nonsense! Of course it is. Who's going to see it, anyway? It'll just sit on my instagram account and we both know no one sees the things on IGTV, anyway. Maybe a couple of those teen nurses at Gilbert's hospital, and they could use a hair tutorial," she explained. Jerry closed the paper and looked at them. Marie scurried off in the cute hairstyle Anne had taught Diana for her.

"Are you seriously publishing this, sis?"

"Annoying you and all, yes" Anne looked at him, making him a mock face. "With a few edits, I'm sure, and not all the audio. But you're going to have a stellar appearance in an updo tutorial video, Jerry Baynard, how do you feel about that?"

"How do you feel about telling me what's going on in that apartment in Hamilton?" Jerry asked as an answer, leaving the paper on the table. Anne blushed profusely and pushed the stop button on the recording.

"There is nothing going on," she said, but could see something of a knowing glint in both Jerry's and Diana's eyes. Only she would not acknowledge it, because that meant confessing, and she was not ready to share anything about this yet. Not when it was so raw, so new, so full of expectations she couldn't yet mouth.

"Your blush is as cute now as ever. Tu penses qu'elle va nous dire quelque chose aujourd'hui, ma belle?" he said and Diana just shook her head, smiling, and Anne rolled her eyes. "Ok, tell yourself there's nothing going on. You're still recording this?"

"No, stopped a bit ago," she said. She had stopped as soon as he had derailed from the main topic at hand, him in a hair tutorial video.

"Have you given any thought to anything you've ever talked with me?"

"Of course not, when have I ever?" Anne said, defensive.

"You both, seriously behave like the adults you are. Mon amour, t'en veux un café?" Diana turned to Jerry, standing up.

"Diana, Jerry, stop speaking in French!" Anne said, completely annoyed.

"She's just offering coffee, Anne! Seriously, we don't only talk about you! Café, oui merci. Quand est-ce que tu penses qu'ils vont accepter toute cette histoire pour qu'on puisse parler librement?" Jerry answered Diana, who rolled her eyes.

"Never," she answered, and Anne narrowed her eyes. She hated being left out of the loop. "I'll be right back," she said going in the direction Anne knew the kitchen was.

"I'm not buying this, Jerry. What were you saying?"

"She offered coffee. I accepted. Now, let's talk about how relaxed you look today. Any news?" Anne ignored him as she transferred the video to her laptop and started editing. "You do know you're an open book, right?" Anne bit her lip, considering. This was Jerry. She could trust Jerry. Older brother, annoying, obnoxious Jerry.

"I started seeing a therapist. Well, zooming with him, but the point stands," she explained. Jerry frowned for a second, but then looked relieved.

"Were you having bad dreams again?" The years he had lived in Green Gables he had been a witness to many of Anne's night terrors, that were especially bad in that time surrounding the loss of the farm, Matthew's death, Marilla getting sick and Gilbert all but non-existent in her life. She swallowed, considering telling him about the other night. He had tried to help her so many times back then she knew he would not judge her any more than Gilbert had.

"Yes. I had… an especially bad one the other night, and it somehow got worse when I woke up. Gilbert's friend, Fred, convinced me to try to speak with a professional and see if that would help."

"I know Fred. He's a good guy. And has it helped?"

"I suppose it's too early to really tell? But it has felt good, talking with someone and getting my thoughts in order. Barely week and I can feel some changes."

"What does Blythe say about this? Has he been of any help, le niaiseux?"

"He has, for a fact, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult him in French. He's letting me live at his place, remember?" Jerry huffed, as if he knew something else. "He called Fred in the first place that night and has been trying to help as much as he can. But yes, so I've been talking to this therapist and so far everything doesn't look as gloomy. So there's that." Jerry nodded as Diana came back with the coffees and Anne changed the subject to Marie's plans for school coming fall. Jerry was kind of her brother, but she didn't want to discuss going to any kind of therapy with perfect Diana, her bosom friend at heart. At least not when it was still so new, she would probably tell her when she was more comfortable with the whole idea.

callmecordelia just made a post

The notification buzzed just as he was sitting to have lunch with Fred, some other doctors and a couple of nurses. He slid it open and waited for it to load as he opened his tupper: today, a mix of quinoa with roasted veggies, some sauteed tofu and salad.

"That looks yummy, dr. Blythe," commented one of the nurses, Victoria.

"What? Oh, it does. Thank you," he said, distracted as he could not take his eyes off Anne's picture. It was of her back, curls going down her back, some kind of messy braid going down. Her hair seemed to beg to be touched and he remembered the afternoon he had brushed her.

callmecordelia: Special hairstyle day! I posted a tutorial in case you're in need of a DIY hairstyle for whatever social zoom event you might have coming up. Or a real life event. With a special apparition of jerryofgreengables to show you how your partner can help when they're in the right mood, and the best ever dianabaynard to show you can do it by yourself if he's not talented with a brush. Go watch it on IGTV!

gilbertblythe: so, talented with a brush?

He typed and posted without thinking, managing somehow to be her first comment.

"Blythe, you won me!" Fred said with a mock suffering voice. Gilbert frowned at him. "I'm always the first!"

"You have a weird obsession with Anne and I don't know if I should get concerned about it," Gilbert commented, frowning a bit.

"I think of her like the little sister I never had, Blythe. Forest fairy little sister. Who would have thought she had those… aesthetic abilities?" Fred answered, as if it was so obvious he couldn't understand Gilbert's comment.

"Are you talking about your wife, Blythe?" asked Sherman, a fellow doctor, looking at the picture on Fred's screen. She looked curious as she scrolled Anne's pictures.

"It is! Isn't she a beauty?" Fred asked, as if he was some kind of proud relative. Gilbert gave him a stern look, his ears pink. Sherman nodded.

"She is. Had never heard you talk about her before," she commented, passing the phone back to Fred.

"I don't talk much about my personal life at work, I guess…" Gilbert explained, for a lack of any better explanation. Fred laughed.

"Will she come back, dr Blythe? She came the other week, didn't she?" Victoria asked him.

"She did. I suppose she will come back at some point in life, it's not like she has a special motive," he answered, before Fred could say anything else. He ate a little. Quinoa was yummy. He was so lucky Anne cooked and actually enjoyed it.

"Oh, I will for sure watch her video. We have a zoom birthday party this weekend and it will be perfect."

"I'm sure she'll be happy about it…" Gilbert tried to be vague, see if the subject died down. He opened the post again. How could she be this beautiful, talented and passionate and still want to be with him? He had hoped for years and years, but his wish becoming real? That was something else.

"What's with that brush comment anyway, Blythe?" Fred asked him.

"What?"

"Your comment? Are you talented with a brush or what? I would have never imagined, seeing that mop of yours."

"Hey, this mop now has a shape. And apparently I am, I helped her the other day and… Well," he felt his ears burn again, Sherman, Victoria, Fred and their other table companions looking intently at him, waiting for him to continue. "I just brushed it! It's not a big deal, is it? Normal thing to do? Anyway, her hair is so soft and I had never noticed, but have you seen how light hair changes colour?"

"Blythe, you are so gone, I would have never imagined! Always thought of you as the most stoic doctor in the building," commented doctor Sherman, as the student nurses giggled and Fred could not control his laughter any longer.

"You are so romantic, dr. Blythe!" said one of the youngest ones. Gilbert just felt he was blushing more and more. It was all Fred's fault, all this business.

"I'm going to get a coffee. See you later?" he said, standing up. He still had some salad, but he was done with this conversation and just wanted to vanish from the staff room. Fred got up as well, popping the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

"I'm coming, Blythe, Timmies?" he passed an arm around his shoulder as Gilbert tried to get him off, shaking his head. They got out of the room, the nurses still giggling. "So, brushing, eh?"

"Oh, shut up, Wright, you so did that on purpose."

"Of course I did. It was the cutest face you've ever made," he commented, walking towards the main exit. Gilbert shook his head. "Well, it was! Might as well get used to it, Blythe, your serious reputation is transforming slowly but surely in this place."

"Only because of your comments. Honest, would you mind just helping me appear professional?"

"Being a romantic, gone sap and being professional are compatible, Blythe. I'm just happy seeing you happy," Fred commented. "How's the headache going?" he asked, referencing the one Gilbert had been nursing before lunch.

"Got better, actually. I don't think it's any kind of sugar issue, but… I don't know, they keep coming like clockwork."

"Told you, it's your eyesight old doc. You keep squinting in that computer in your office," Fred commented.

"Oh, shut it and order me some coffee, will you? I'll meet you in a minute," Gilbert answered, as they arrived at the entrance of the coffee shop. Fred nodded, going inside, and he took his phone out.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:25): Are you doing it on purpose, Carrots?

**Carrots (12:26): Contrary to what you may think, I don't read minds. Yet. Training with Robert and Gertrude, but it's going slow

**Gilbert Blythe (12:26): They are plants, Anne-girl. They don't have thoughts.

**Carrots (12:26): Shoot. There you have it then

**Gilbert Blythe (12:26): Saw your picture. I can't believe I get to kiss you when I get home. Seems unreal.

**Carrots (12:26): Can't believe it either.

**Carrots (12:26): That you kiss me. That is.

**Gilbert Blythe (12:27): You do strange things to me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. Can't wait to get there and kiss that little space behind your ear.

**Carrots (12:27): !

**Carrots (...)

**Gilbert Blythe (12:28): Trail kisses around your jaw…

**Carrots (...)

**Carrots (12:28): Don't you work, Slateface? I have a chat with dr. Patel in about two minutes and I can't get distracted by your teasing now. I'll wait for you here 😉

Slateface? She'll wait for him at home? Wink? What? Work?

"Ready, Blythe?" Fred asked, a coffee on each hand. Gilbert nodded, and received his, not able to shake an unbelieving, yet mischievous and satisfied smile from his face. "If possible, you seem even more unsettled than before, and somehow I don't want to know the details of this anymore. That silly grin in your face looks positively dangerous." Gilbert couldn't contain a laugh then.

"She just called me Slateface."

"You're kidding right?" Fred answered. Gilbert shook his head, the same smile adorning his face. "What does that even mean, Blythe?"

"The nickname she gave me in middle school. When she finally agreed to talk to me. As so I didn't forget what teasing could result in or some rubbish like that. I've told you the slate story before. This was just the continuation. Eventually it became a sort of teasing name, something to call me in jest. So I called her Carrots. She called me Slateface. It was a truce."

"You're actually being serious, aren't you?"

"Completely. So whenever she used Slateface on me… I already knew she had something wicked in mind. Or was in a beyond teasing mood. She hadn't used it all these months… and I hadn't even thought of it until it appeared on my screen," Gilbert explained, the smile and longing in his eyes way too evident, apparently, as two of the student nurses giggled while looking at him. He didn't even notice.

"You look so positively endearing, Blythe, your reputation is going to be ruined in two weeks tops. Straight face, you can do it, the most serious doctor in town," Fred told him, and Gilbert laughed again. He couldn't wait to be home and show her what her teasing did to him.

Anne was nervous in the afternoon. After having published the post and the video (and receiving annoyed messages from Jerry), she hadn't expected Gilbert's comment. Even less his message. When she had started her session with dr. Patel, she had done so in a flustered state that had prompted all sorts of conversations with his therapist, about her fears and expectations and what was really holding her back- or not. About trust. They had already talked about Daniel and Lincoln extensively some days before and she understood how different what she had with Gilbert was. And that had prompted her thinking about… going somewhere further with Gilbert. Maybe. Maybe today?

After talking with him and with Patel, she was curious. She wanted to see it for herself. And she trusted Gilbert implicitly to do this with him. That would not change today or in a year, if she decided to wait that long. Gilbert would never harm her, it was with him that she could be most herself. When she was fifteen and now. The trust they had among the two of them was not comparable to the one she had with her other closest friends- he had always been apart, somehow, and that allowed for this… option, for this possibility. To explore not only friendship, but love and intimacy as well. He had never been really only a friend.

So if anyone was going to ever help her feel at ease to navigate the possibilities of her body, not on its own, but as a partner, as an equal, it was Gilbert. No one else she could trust. There was no other man on earth with whom she could embark on this, who could understand her and not judge her.

Anne bit her lip as she re-read the exchange of texts after he had written to her, before her appointment. Slateface. What had she been thinking? She hadn't even thought as she wrote it, the message flowing naturally after many other attempts that felt wrong, somehow. This one had felt right. But he had not answered anything yet. Maybe she had gone too far? It just… there had been a playful something in the conversation before. And then his bold comments. What did he expect?

But she would not insist and would not bother him at the hospital, texting him to see if she had said something wrong- if Slateface was now somehow vetoed. She read for a bit, still her hair up from the morning, the same shorts and flowy, silky green blouse for the hot summer day- she preferred to open the windows and let the air flow than to lock herself with the AC turned on full force. She watered the plants, talked with them some. And then decided that a lot of time must surely have gone by and she could see her phone again.

**Gil (15:58): Carrots- I can't wait to be home. Will you really be waiting?

Anne blushed not really knowing why, seeing the message he had sent over half an hour before. Well, she was going to be waiting. It was not like she ever went somewhere far. But she felt like his words implied something more. She went to see herself in the mirror. She looked like plain old Anne with lived-in updo after reading lying down on the sofa for far too long. But it didn't look bad, not really, just not… like the formal hairstyle she had taught Diana.

She remembered the afternoon after he had drawn her the bath, when he had touched her. Watching herself in the mirror, she could almost draw in her reflection the place where he had been, and it made her blush even more. That had felt so good… and yet she had stopped short. Today she would not, if they found themselves in that same situation. His hands on her breasts… on her hard nipples.. Maybe, just maybe, could she take her bra off? Would that be too forward? Well, she didn't lose anything by seeing how it looked.

The green blouse wasn't very sheer, and it was flowy and silky. Seeing her reflection again, it made almost no difference, she thought. She knew she wasn't particularly beautiful by any common standard- she was particular, and freckly, and pale. Homely, they would have said in another time. But she wasn't ugly either and Gilbert always made her think she was somehow more beautiful than she thought.

She sighed, and put the bra on again. Maybe she wasn't ready for that yet.

Maybe she was? Wouldn't that be a good… a direct way to let him know she wanted to be touched? She bit her lips and took it off again, putting it away on the closet and going back to her book on puppetry for storytelling. Oh well, it was decided, right? It was way more comfortable to be braless, anyway, if she was being honest. The things were all wiry and... She kept reading, putting on her earphones to muffle the noise of the street below, and wrote down some things she wanted to order to make her first felt puppets.

From: anne_shirleycuthbert

To: kakwet1990

Subject: Re: Are you ok?!

My dearest kindred spirit

Yes. Everything is going better. I actually had my fourth session today with dr. Patel. He's a dear and really makes me feel like this could potentially have an end. Again- sorry for worrying you the other night. I wasn't in a right state of mind and just needed to hear someone who would understand. I've been talking with dr. Patel about the orphanage… But also about Lincoln and Daniel. It's been hard… coming to terms with everything. But also liberating, even if I can just see the full scope of what it means. I'm curious about what can happen, what can develop with Gilbert now. He actually asked me to be his girlfriend… And I felt like a teen, because who does that at our age? Teen me just melted and adult me just feels how right this is. Like I can be myself because he has seen me at my worst and know he will always help me get on my two feet.

Anyway. I'll tell you more later. I also have a couple more stories for you and your family to review, they're attached to this email as well as the older ones with the corrections in them. I added notes where it wasn't clear what you meant.

I love you as always.

Melkita'ulamun

Gilbert greated Anne as he came into the house, but received no answer. He washed his hands first and then went to look for her. Walking around in socks, he saw her concentrating on something at the dining room table, a notepad on her side, her back to him. She was still wearing the same blouse she had on the picture, and had kept the same hairstyle, but it looked messier, more her. Being all prim and proper, not a hair out of line, was not really very Anne-like. Having some kind of complicated braid half undone, lived in, that was her. He smiled again, as he had been doing the whole day (Fred making fun of him even in the parking lot as they parted ways).

He went quietly over to where she was and noticed she was listening to something on her phone, which explained why she had ignored him before. He hugged her from behind, giving her a soft kiss in the nape of her neck just where the updo left some free space. He hoped not to startle her, and smiled softly as she turned over surprised, but happy.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, taking off the earphones. He bent down to kiss her lightly. And then saw her list of materials and the book, one of the last he had recommended thinking she would like it- a mix of story-telling, pedagogy and DIY.

"I am, yes. How are you?" he asked, chuckling, massaging her shoulders lightly, forgetting about the images that had plagued his mind the whole afternoon. He had been imagining everything he was going to do to her as soon as he crossed the door, but now that he had, he felt at ease, in peace, just by being close to her.

"Good. It has been a good day. I just lost track of time…"

"I can see that. What were you listening to?" he asked, curious. He always wanted to know her music. She always had discovered the best groups, so it had been a no-brainer that she was in charge of the playlist for the Montreal trip. He suggested songs when they came to his mind, but it was really her masterpiece. She showed him the blocked screen. Stand Still, Sabrina Claudio . He frowned. "Never heard of her," he commented.

"What? But she has the nicest voice!" Anne said, handing him one of the earplugs and putting the other. He leaned in, to be within the length of the cable, as she put the song from the beginning, the musical introduction beginning. After a moment he couldn't help himself and offered her his hand, inviting her to get up, while they continued to listen. "What? Gil…"

"Shh… I want to dance with you," he whispered, pocketing her phone in his back pocket, holding her close to him as they moved slowly through the living room, as he leaded her slowly, enjoying the music. Anne lost herself in his embrace, closing her eyes, the music on one ear, Gilbert's calm breath in the other, his chest so close to her. She felt his steady, warm hand on the lower part of her back, guiding her slowly, while the other one caressed her waist slowly. Up and down. Up and down.

Anne opened her eyes and met his gaze, intense but soft at the same time, so focused on her as if nothing else existed in the moment, the colours of his eyes standing out in the sunlight. Bit of green. A bit of gold. A bit of brown. All mixing together in their perfect combination of his hazel eyes. She swallowed, looking briefly at his mouth, almost feeling how he inhaled as she did so.

The silence of the afternoon enveloped them, only the small string of music heard by them. Everything seemed quiet, but both of them knew it really was not. Gilbert looked at her, her blue eyes full of anticipation, almost as much as he felt his own transmitted. When the song died and the next one started, he leaned forward and kissed her slowly, enveloping first her upper lips, tasting slowly as he sucked lightly on it. A bit of a teasing, small nibble, his tongue giving her a caress as she parted her lips, letting him savour every bit of her mouth.

His hands held her close to him, caressing her waist under the fabric, feeling the soft skin of her back as the new music enveloped them in the intimacy of the earphones. She sighed into the kiss, realizing how much she had longed for it since that wicked message he had sent at midday, and tangled her fingers within his curls. Gilbert guided her slowly, the music leading them, towards the nearest wall, pinning her against it, feeling all the curves she had allowed him to. He broke the kiss.

"I have been waiting for this moment since you posted that photo," he whispered in her ear. She blushed, the feeling of his muscles against her, of his general warmth and steadiness, making something flutter inside her.

"I never thought you would see it," she answered, her voice barely a whisper so breathless she was.

"That's where you're wrong, Carrots. I always see everything you post. Read everything you write… about being talented with a brush… and stuff…" he whispered, still hovering over her. She chuckled, not wanting him to move, breathing his unique scent.

"It was totally not a message to you," she said quietly as he kissed her jawline slowly. Only it had been and she knew it. She had hoped for some kind of reaction- which she had gotten, twice.

"Oh, but I think you did…" he answered, knowing her better than most. "I think you were thinking about the other day," he continued in between kisses, his hands resting on her waist, under the soft fabric of her blouse. Her skin felt warm and soft under his hands and he caressed it lightly. She tried not to think of the fact she had not gotten the chance to put on the bra again, even though she had thought about it more often than not. She tried not to think of the way she already felt warm in her shorts. And how maybe this really was about the other day and how she was curious about where this could go today.

"I… I was...," she couldn't really lie, but she couldn't form a coherent sentence either. He chuckled.

"I think you were doing it on purpose, Anne-girl," he whispered to her ear, his voice already a bit hoarse, before nibbling her lobe and making her inhale sharply, the unexpected sensation going down as she felt herself getting more turned on by the second, the combination of the slow music, his voice and his touch getting to her as she breathed the scent that was so gilberty. "I think you wanted me to come to you…" he said, his hands roaming higher, expecting to find the boundary of her bra but instead finding the expanse of her skin. Had she… not worn anything under that blouse for her video? Had she taken it off before he finished working? He put a little distance to look at her. Wide, dilated eyes, mouth parted, need in her expression. He closed his eyes, not sure if he could actually handle looking at her. She saw as he clenched his jaw and swallowed, as if he was bracing himself to do something difficult. He leaned forward, but instead of kissing her again, as her parting lips had been expecting, he went for her ear. "Carrots… Have you any idea of what you're doing to me?" he whispered quietly, his voice strained and raspy, as if it was physically hard to get the words out. She swallowed.

"I… Gil," she murmured, as she was at a loss of how she could be the source of that state, and only knew she needed him.

Gilbert retreated, opening his eyes, his pupils wide and his eyes so loving. She felt his hands leave her body and felt suddenly unstable, but then he offered them, palms up his eyes still on her. She accepted the offer and followed him to the bedroom, to the bed. If she really had no bra and that meant she had the intention of at least repeating the other day, he wanted to be on a bed with her. Not on the narrow sofa. He pulled the phone off his pocket and took out the earplugs, putting play on the phone so the music surrounded them, and left the phone on the nightstand.

Anne looked at the bed and bit her lip, unsure all of a sudden of what she was really ready for. She wanted more. She wanted to explore. She wanted to see how great it could be. But she wasn't sure of how far she wanted to take it that day. And the bed seemed to encompass too many expectations. Gilbert sensed her hesitation.

"We're not doing anything you're not ready for, Anne-girl. I just want you to be comfortable as I kiss you senseless, how does that sound?" he said, winking, and she laughed, the tension leaving as he fondly caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. That could happen. Kisses were good. She went over to the bed, feeling more playful now, bringing him by the suspenders, and he loved even more his choice of apparel than what he already did. She laid down on her side, pulling him with her as she kissed him hotly, now that she knew he wasn't expecting much of this encounter, much more relaxed.

Gilbert kissed her back, his hand roaming down her blouse, caressing her breast lightly, feeling her lips react in need. She wanted more, it would seem, and her hands soon were pushing down the suspenders off his shoulders. He chuckled and took them off, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

"Off- take it off," she said.

"Bossy today?" he asked teasingly, but did as she asked and then saw how she tentatively moved a hand to touch the side of his neck, below his ear. Since the other day, she had wanted to do more. To touch him and see if it was real how much her touch had an effect on him. As she caressed him, she saw him narrow his eyes, exhaling slowly as if to steady himself. She trailed her hand slowly, moving along the length of his collarbone and down to his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly under her hand.

Anne moved forward and kissed him on the chest, seeing how he inhaled sharply, his heart under her lips. She gave him little bites and open-mouthed kisses, making him hitch in response, a moan escaping his throat. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert somehow knew every button in his body and was torturing him in the most delicious of ways. He brushed her nipple with a finger, feeling how it went hard under his touch. She whimpered a bit.

"You like that, don't you, Anne-girl?" He bent over a little to get as close as he could to her ear. "Every little noise you make turns me on, Carrots," he whispered hoarsely and she went on to lick his collarbone. "Goodness, Anne," he couldn't help but say, feeling his hips jerk forward. He wanted her closer and took his hand to her back, under her blouse, moving a finger slowly through her spine.

Anne whimpered again, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel him on her skin. She took his hands slowly and moved them as gently as she could towards her breasts. Gilbert looked at her in the eyes as he touched her, his hand eliciting more caught breaths in her throat, a faster breathing in her. The silky fabric was becoming annoyingly cumbersome. Feeling resolved, she let go of his hands and extended her arms, a gesture so direct and universal he leaned in to kiss her before letting go of her breasts to pull slowly the green fabric over her head, letting it fall at the side of the bed.

Gilbert was still half propped on his side as Anne laid on her back, her chest exposed, an open invitation. He watched at her, admiring every curve of her body, how she had freckles even where he wouldn't have dared imagined. Her breasts round, probably just average to an impartial judge but so perfect for him, who had imagined them for years. The nipples erect, areola a pinkish brown. She looked at him, worried by his examination.

"Gil?"

"You are so beautiful, Anne," he declared, looking at her directly in the eyes, noticing how she left out a sight. "So incredibly, amazingly beautiful," he insisted, leaning forward to kiss her as slowly as he had in the living room, taking care of each lip, sucking them calmly, softly, but never relenting, until he felt her squirm under him. He moved as he kissed her, hovering over her, supporting himself in his forearms, but she still felt his presence all over her body as he softly bit her lips, asking for an entrance that could never be denied. Their tongues battling in a kiss as much as they did when speaking, the kiss deepened until Gilbert retreated a few inches to watch her breathless, her lips full, swollen by what he had just done to them.

Anne watched as he moved towards her again and braced herself for another kiss, but then he moved towards her neck, giving it a playful lick, a nibble that made her whimper. He went over her ear. "I want to hear every little noise you have stored for me, Anne," Gilbert murmured hoarsely and went back to her collarbone, eliciting the smallest of moans. He took it as a challenge as he continued at a slow, tortuous pace down her chest and over her breasts. The nipples still erect, expecting him. Anne tried looking at him, but then let her head burrow in the soft pillow, watching the smooth ceiling above her as he blew a cold breath over one of her breasts. He saw as the nipple contracted even more, and smiled satisfied as she whimpered.

"How does that feel, Anne-girl?" he murmured against her skin, his tongue circling slowly the areola before he took in the nipple in his mouth, making her moan louder than before, a ripple of energy go down to her chore, her hips looking for something, her whole body jerking forward, so much feeling she almost told him to get off because it was too much. Only it wasn't- it was not nearly enough, she realised. "You like this, don't you?" he insisted, moving to suck the other nipple, a bit harder than the previous one, gaining a new moan from her, even louder than the one before. She felt like she was losing it. Any control she ever had escaping as Gilbert worked his way over her.

Anne tried pulling him closer, wrapping one leg around his and trying to push him forward. Her hands going to the hem of his pants, not daring yet to open them, but wanting to feel what was there. She touched where she knew his erection was and felt him hiss against her skin.

"Is this.. do you like… is this good?" she asked, uncertainty evident in her stutter. Gilbert blinked, trying to get in control of his body. He didn't want this to be about him. Not yet, anyway. He wanted Anne to feel confident, first. But also, he didn't want her to feel like she was doing anything unwelcome, anything bad, not when she was taking any initiative.

"I… Anne, yes," he answered anyway, but then brought her face to his, kissing her deeply, as she continued to touch him. "I love that, Carrots," he insisted, but his hand went to meet hers and guided it to his waist. She looked at him, confused. Was that good or not, then? "I want today to be more about you than about me," he explained.

"But…"

"No buts, sweet girl," he said, silencing her with a kiss, his hand still on her breast, still feeling how she tried to bring him closer. The other day, when she wanted to be touched, she had asked him to take off his shirt. Maybe today...

He moved off from her, lying again in his side, regaining control of his arms as he no longer needed them to support himself. She looked at him, her breathing fast, her heart pounding so hard he could see her left breast move rhythmically. He watched her in the eyes, as he took one hand to caress her. From her cheek, cupping it softly. Holding the lobe of her ear for a moment only. Tracing down her neck, her collarbone. Cupping her breast and toying with her nipple as she whimpered, her body squirming. Making abstract patterns in her belly, watching how her muscles contracted and every single tiny strawberry blond hair stood erect in anticipation. Getting closer to the hem of her shorts, watching her blush go past her cheeks, down her neck, as his fingers and his nails teased her lightly.

Anne closed her eyes, not able anymore to handle both what her body was feeling and his unwavering gaze. She tried, again, to control her breathing. She lost the battle one more time. As much as he wanted it to be about her, it was becoming harder for Gilbert to continue, his arousal growing by the moment as he saw her mouth parting.

Finally, he let his hand go down to touch the surface of her short, a soft linen fabric in dark blue, close to her crotch area, ever so lightly. "May I…?" She nodded, swallowing, conscious about what was probably about to happen. His hand put some more pressure and he looked at her in the eyes, gauging what she was feeling. She took in a shaky breath, closing her eyes. "How does this feel, Carrots? To have my hand over you?" she swallowed again. "Tell me, Carrots, you like this?" He forced himself to keep talking, his voice strained as he felt how warm she was under the fabric, a slight moisture getting through the thin linen. She had to be so wet for the outer fabric to feel like this. So incredibly wet.

She tried to answer, but only a nonsensical whimper came out of her mouth. He moved his fingers slightly in a half circle, not relieving any pressure, and then stopped to see her eyes open again. Even darker. Anne half moaned, half groaned, frustrated. She needed that. More of that. Closer. But he was going to go slow. He knew intuitively that he was the first to touch her this way, other than herself. And he was going to do it only as she allowed herself to feel.

"Anne-girl, you like this?" he insisted, his hand still there, but so still. She tried moving against it, but he just moved with her, not allowing any need to be satisfied. He needed her talking. Communicating. "Tell me in your words, Carrots, talk to me." Gilbert wanted Anne to speak, to tell him what she liked, and how, and to make her feel important enough to know that what she wanted was as valued, more important than him. He moved his hand only slightly for just a fraction of a second, eliciting a new moan from her but no more answers. "Speak, dear girl. Tell me. You like my hand on you?" he continued, his voice still hoarse as he got closer to her, his hand still as he kissed her jaw, nibbling on it. She was still as well, still but squirming, still but breathing raggedly, fighting with herself.

"Yes," was all she could say, the only word that came into her mind and that she could pronounce.

"You want me to touch you?" Gilbert asked, moving slightly again, his other hand feeling her breast. Anne whimpered again, her hips moving against his hand. Why did he stop? What did he want? What could she do to relieve this? She tried moving again, but it was as if he read her mind as he moved with her. "Voice it, Carrots. Tell me what you want," he insisted, a duel against her inhibition. See who would win. Her needs and her desire, or whatever had happened to her before that limited her so much.

"Gil… yes," she moaned. She sought strength to keep speaking as he didn't budge, expectant. "Don't… stop."

"As you wish, love," he answered, before kissing her deeply as his fingers moved again. He moved his hand, now only two fingers pressing against her center, not stopping this time, moving in circles above the fabric of her shorts, that was becoming increasingly wet with her moisture and the friction. His other hand playing with her hard nipple. He broke the kiss and saw her eyes, dark with need, her breathing ragged, her hips thrusting to his hand. Oh god, this felt so good.

Anne tried touching him, her hand going to his back, to his arm, not really knowing what to do with herself. Caressing the nape of his neck as he hissed into her ear, her touch bringing fire to him even when he was trying to concentrate on her. Only he couldn't, because concentrating on her meant watching and feeling her, and that in itself turned him on more than anything else he had experienced before.

"You are so wet, Anne… So good… Goodness, were you able to look at you…", he murmured, going back to her neck, his hand maintaining the same constant, insistent pace as he felt how her breathing slowly became even more erratic, her movements losing direction as she tensed more and more.

"Gil… I…" she knew she was close. She had been here before. On this edge. Afraid to jump outside the privacy of her loneliness. Gilbert noticed her lust, how it was on the verge of overcoming her, but how she still could not let go.

"You feel it, don't hold it, Carrots," he strained to say, before kissing her quickly once more. Anne would have stopped by now, if she was the only one moving. She willed her hips to stop, and they actually diminished the pace. But Gilbert noticed that and he was having none of it. He felt she wanted this, but was, again, unsure of it. Limiting herself, once more. "Go for it, dear," he mumbled in her ear, his hand unrelenting, picking up the pace as he felt her fight with something bigger. "Go… Release."

Anne really tried. She tried to hold it with all her might, because that's all she knew. But Gilbert's word in his ear, his hand just working her on, no break, no pause, the need she had felt for days condensating in this very moment… She couldn't. She exploded in a climax she had never imagined before, moan after moan as her body contorted with sensation, with release, with bliss, her heart about to explode.

It kept going and going, even when Gilbert's hand kept moving, pacing down his movements slowly as she rode out the roller coaster of energy he had brought her to, trying to hold her as her body bolted more than he could ever have imagined, as if it had a life of its own and she had no say in it anymore. Her back arching in a new spasm it had not known before, her head deep into the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut because she couldn't hold them open as the world collapsed around her. He stopped completely only when he felt she was done and she breathed into his shoulder, his scent everywhere, trying to regain her breath but failing for several minutes.

Only by watching her, he almost came himself. So powerful it was.

"What… what did just…. was that…" she asked, incoherently, some minutes later. He chuckled lovingly, interlacing a hand with hers, the other going to caress her cheek, to wipe some sweat from her forehead. That had been way stronger than anything she had accomplished on her own.

"That was an orgasm, Anne-girl. That's how it's supposed to be," he answered, kissing her forehead. "And this was only the tip of the iceberg, I promise," he said softly on her ear, breathing her scent and bringing her closer to him.

"It was… it… I…" she was at a loss of words, nothing sufficiently encompassing, no word descriptive enough, strong enough.

"I know," he answered, hugging her close as she sighed into his chest. He let out his breath slowly as well, as he felt her breathe deeply, finally. "Let's stay like this for a while, eh? Take a moment," he proposed, a hand caressing her hair slowly, soothingly. She nodded and breathed his scent in, relaxing. So that's what she'd been missing? He sighed, relaxing. Seeing her find some release had been even more satisfying than doing it himself.

Notes:

Gilbert's obsession with Anne's hair is kind of weird, but a bit endearing. Apparently he couldn't get over it (how could he?)... And Fred just knows it.
What was your favorite part? What do you think will happen on Saturday? Tell us your theories! We really enjoy reading them and seeing who gets details right or not.
Also, as a final note... Yes, Jerry and Diana speak French. No, Anne doesn't get what they say because she doesn't speak the language. So... if you don't either, don't worry about it. Anne can live without knowing, so do you. Or you can google translate if you're that curious (or turn to your french-speaking friend) ;)
We'll see you in a couple of days!