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Chapter 31

Anne went into the house and felt an eerie silence. No music, which was usually the first thing Gilbert setup when he arrived home. She frowned slightly as she kicked her sandals off.

"Gilbert?" she called, but received no answer. "Gil?" she tried again, walking to the kitchen and then going around to the dining room and living room, an increasing sense of dread in her. She went quickly to the bedroom, after seeing the bathroom door open.

He wasn't anywhere.

She bit her lips. She had really really really fucked up for him to go. He never ever left. He was always there. A constant. So firm. So steady. Gilbert Blythe didn't storm out. He wasn't like that. She was reckless and impulsive and horrible and of course she ran away whenever she couldn't take the tension anymore, but it was the first time in her life that she found Gilbert gone.

And she didn't know quite well what to do with that. Was this how he felt every time she went out the door in a fit of anger? God, she wasn't doing it again. Ever. This was… lonely and sad and so so quiet, such a false calm.

Anne sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of what to do, noticing the box of condoms on the nightstand, like a promise. Should she call him? Text him? Would he even answer? It was so out of character for him she couldn't even imagine how he would answer. Maybe give him some space? When she stormed out the only thing she wanted was to be left alone to sort whatever she needed. So maybe that's what he was doing. She got up and went for her carry-on, that she had left next to the closet after she carelessly abandoned it on the entryway, and started unpacking.

Then she did some laundry. Watered the plants that needed it, mentally thanking Fred and Ella for taking care of them. Looked around for anything she could prepare for dinner, but it was still too early. Looked at her phone every five minutes, always hoping more time had passed, but mainly that he had written anything to her. She bit her lip again and went to the couch to try to read but couldn't really concentrate. She needed to sort this. She needed him home so they could talk.

**Carrots (17:44): Come home? Please?

Gilbert watched at the notification, frowning slightly.

"What?"

"Anne," he said, passing the phone to Fred. "She's… she's always referred to the apartment as… my place. Or simply the apartment . Never… as home."

"Then go, Blythe! What are you even waiting for?" Fred said, placing the phone back in Gilbert's hand and almost pushing it in the direction of the parking lot.

"I… Yes. I should go. Do you think she…?"

"It's Anne, Blythe. Obviously she figured something out. Now go home and please talk to her? Before doing anything else? Don't cover difficult conversations with sex? It doesn't make them go away…"

"Wright! Honestly!" Gilbert answered, annoyed.

"Just saying. Go!"

And so Gilbert walked to his car at a brisk pace. As he drove the twelve minutes back to the building, he kept going over and over the message Anne had sent him. Come home? Home? Anne had never been one to take words lightly, so he knew it wasn't a slip of the tongue. If that were the case, she would have said it any other day, and even then, if she didn't feel at home, she wouldn't have let it out. She took months before referring to the Cuthbert's as home. He knew in her vocabulary it wasn't a light word. It was not a mistake, not after the fight they'd had on this matter. Especiallynot after it. She could see now her home could be with him. How she had come to that conclusion, he died to know… But he wasn't going to complain. She had seen it. She had asked him to come back. He felt a pang of guilt about having left the apartment in such a moment. But… he had been frustrated, alone, Fred had already offered, he had no clue if she was going to be gone for an hour or more… He wouldn't duel on it.

He parked and breathed deeply for a few seconds before coming out of the car. He went up the stairs, still going over their discussion, over the pain he had felt, but… over the sheer hope that single text message gave him. He entered the apartment to find some mellow music playing. He sighed. This was home. Her music, her plants, their books, his mess. He kicked of his shoes quickly.

"Anne?" he said, trying to get an idea of where she was. She appeared almost immediately, looking at him with big eyes. He was home. He didn't look mad any more. She half-smiled, unsure of what to do or how to talk. "Hi. I'm sorry. I went for a walk with Fred, I didn't mean to leave like this... He's… There is some good news," he said, not really knowing what to say or how to explain having left the place. He had never done so and didn't know how to come back now. She nodded, but still looked at him. So, good news? After all… this? What was going on? Why had he gone then? Why was he so quiet? They stared at each other for what seemed like a lot of time, each waiting for the other to talk. "We need to talk, first, if… if you would be open to it?" he finally said, tentatively. She didn't seem about to snap as she did before.

"Please?" she replied. She needed him to know what she had just discovered. In any means she could. If it was talking, she would talk. She walked back to the living room, hoping he would follow. He went after her, noticing the yearning in her voice, but stopped at the door.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked. As much as he wanted to talk with her, he also wanted some distance. Something to hold. Fred's comment might have been out of place, but he did see the point.

"Um… sure?" she answered, sitting on the sofa. He went back to the kitchen and prepared a couple of mugs as she stood by the side, quiet and nervous. He gave her one mug and they went back to the living room. He waited for her to take a seat and he took the opposite edge of the sofa, leaving as much distance as possible between them. He wanted to see her as they talked. But he didn't want to be next to her, because then she would just bury in his chest and he wouldn't be able to see her eyes. And he needed to see them for this.

"So, here is the thing, Anne," he said, fully intending to have it all out in the open. Because beating around the bush would only take them so far and he wanted a real, full relationship with her. A relationship with future. Long term future, not just… shitty 2020 future.

Anne looked at him, annoyed at the distance he had so deliberately put in between them. She looked at the stubble he had on his face after not shaving since Friday, and how his chin looked ever so splendid. How his forearms were tense as he held the cup of tea. He had a leg on the sofa, sitting sideways so he could actually face her, the annoying suspenders just in the perfect place. He suddenly frowned.

"Carrots, are you even listening?" he asked, because she had an absent-minded expression even if she had her eyes on him. She blushed violently.

"Sorry? I… got lost?"

"Anne, this is important," he insisted, his brow furrowed. Because it was.

Anne looked at him, frowning as well, but she nodded. She could listen to Gilbert Blythe talk and not get lost in his voice, right? Not get… gosh, it was just the same tone. Soft and low at the same time. It still made her jittery inside as it did when she was a teen, but now she understood what it meant. And they were finally alone, no Delly, no gang, no Bash knocking on doors… She looked how his eyebrows moved and the way his lips formed the words and felt warm inside as she examined him, longing for his touch. They had barely kissed in the whole day, with the drive and the fight and the morning rush at the LaCroix home, and those lips always did the most marvellous things to her…

At some point, Gilbert realised he could be talking about pandas going to the moon while wearing tutus and he would get no more of a reaction from her, because apparently she was in her own little world. A little world of dilated pupils, uncomfortable shifts on the sofa and slight blushes, eh? He did know that expression and he tried to contain a smile. They could always talk later. The implications of her text were clear enough: something had happened for her to consider this apartment and him home and that was all that he wanted that day. They could talk about their careers later. He drank some tea looking at her directly in the eyes and she blushed some more. He had stopped talking, not seeing the point to it.

"Oh, fuck it," he heard her mumble under her breath, before she got up and walked two steps to where he was, sat directly next to him and kiss him hungrily, demandingly, biting his lower lip as she got his head even closer to hers tangling her fingers in his curls. He did his best to not drop or tilt the cup. She finally relented, but didn't leave that much of a space between them. "I have no idea of a word you said. Can we talk later?" she whispered, her voice raspy and her eyes closed. She only opened them as she finished her question.

"You can't get away with not talking, Carrots," he murmured, but her kiss, the evident look of want she had in her eyes was not helping him be strong. She took the cup from his hands and left it on the side table.

"I want to talk. Later. I promise," she whispered as well, before kissing him in a much gentler way. Soft lips against his, caressing them, her tongue sliding slowly along them. He gasped, not really expecting such a soft, tender touch, and she deepened the kiss as his arms held her.

"Anne-girl... ," he tried, taking a hand to cup her cheek. Because he really didn't think kissing would solve anything, as Fred had just said. "We really need to get this straight," he said as she started giving him small kisses along his jawline, toward his ear.

"It is straight," she whispered directly in his ear and he felt a shiver go down his spine. He wouldn't be able to remain this sensible for long if she kept touching him like this. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to touch him, to become as undone as she believed they could.

"It is not," he insisted, but swallowed as Anne bit slowly his earlobe. "Anne, I…"

"What, Gil?" she asked, before giving him an open mouthed kiss just below his ear, knowing full well it was a weak point of his and hearing him trying to control a moan.

"I just… I can't.." he tried to think coherently as she nibbled him on the side of his neck. "Where is this going?" because that's all it mattered, in the end.

"What?"

"You and me. This relationship," he insisted, trying to cling to whatever reason was left in him.

"You're home to me, Gilbert Blythe," she answered, putting some distance between them and looking at him in the eyes. She spoke with such security and conviction in her voice that he felt his stomach give a jump. "I'm not going anywhere. I can't know about ten years from now, but I'm willing to figure it out with you."

And that did it for him. That's all he needed to know for sure and certain today, and he closed the gap that was between them, kissing her thoroughly. One hand caressing her all along her back, the other tangled in her hair, feeling the warmth her body was radiating. At his contact Anne felt how she melted into the embrace as he turned slightly hovering over her, slowly laying her down the length of the sofa. They could go over the details later.

"You are home to me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert," he declared, as he kissed her slowly along her neck and her collarbone, watching in awe how she arched her back and her chest to be closer to him. "You have been since I met you," he whispered in his ear, giving her small bites as he trailed down to her chest as she whined. How could it be possible she had been that for him for so long, if they weren't even on speaking terms? She was wearing a flowy summer dress that had thin straps, and she felt her center grow increasingly warm as Gilbert slid one of them down her arm.

After that rushed something the other day on the sofa before Delly interrupted, she had wanted him. Had wanted to feel him inside her again, because it had been such a foreign, amazing and indescribable feeling she wanted to understand it. And she needed him. Like, now. She tried moving her hips against him, trying to convey her message as a small moan escaped her throat. Gilbert noticed it, but he didn't want to rush anything today. Yes, he could just fuck her right there on the sofa and be done with it within ten minutes. He knew they could have that, so starved they were for each other. But he didn't want that. He went back to see her eyes, all dark blue, pupils dilated, the flush in her cheeks.

"Gil, please just…" she wasn't even sure of what she was asking.

"Shhh… Today I'm making love to you, Anne-girl. And we are not rushing it," he said before kissing her softly, slowly, almost teasingly. "Today you get to see what being loved feels like, Carrots," he whispered in her ear before going back to where he had been kissing her before, just above her breast. She sighed in anticipation, feeling the blood run hot in her veins, trying to swallow at how scared she suddenly felt. Not of him. Of how much she was feeling and how bigger this could get if he kept on with that plan of his. She just wanted him now. He gave her small bites, small open mouthed kisses, trailing down the other strap from the dress and exposing a bit more of her chest, her bra coming into view.

"Gilbert, please," she pleaded, because she didn't know what she needed, but was certain it had to do with him. She felt him smile against her skin and pushed the suspenders down his shoulders, making him downright chuckle. He sat up, put them down and looked at her.

"Now what, sweet-girl? What do you want?" he asked.

She swallowed. Everything was too much to ask? All of him? She sat up as well and started undoing the buttons from the linen shirt he was wearing, going one by one. Her fingers were trembling slightly and he helped her and then took off the shirt, leaving it in the ground. She kissed his chest, making him hiss slightly as he trailed a hand down her back to her buttocks, bringing her closer to him. He sighed as she kissed his nipple, trailing her tongue in a circle around it, and nudged her so she would straddle him. Seeking her mouth with his, he growled a bit as she moved against him, his hands under the soft cotton fabric of the dress, caressing her bottom, bringing her closer to him. Anne moaned against him, burrowing her face in his neck as she felt the now familiar sensation grow inside her.

"Here… let's take this off, shall we?" Gilbert proposed, tagging at the fabric of her dress. She lifted her arms and he slid it off up her head, his hands going immediately to her bare waist as his mouth kissed her in between her breasts. She tried moving against him again, but his hands trailed down to her hip, just above her panties, holding her in place. "What do you say we go to our bedroom?" he proposed, smiling slightly.

She nodded, not trusting her voice. Their bedroom . It felt right to think of it that way. Not as daunting as it had seemed some hours before. He stood up, his arms supporting her as she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him on the neck. He walked in the direction of the bedroom, which really wasn't that far away, but the way she was nibbling at his neck didn't let him process the simple action of a leg in front of the other. He stopped against the wall that was just next to the door of the room, pressing her against it.

"Do you have any idea of what you do to me, Carrots?" he asked, moving against her as she let a small whimper come out. This. That pressure. This movement. Right there. He kissed her chest, watching how her breathing was increasing in tempo and how she seemed to be getting close just by him moving against her, her back on a cold wall. "Goodness, Anne…" he said at that realisation, not daring to stop moving now that he saw the tension she was in. He searched for her mouth, biting her lower lip and pounding against her.

"Gil, I…" she tried, because this, this was so quick, so… she felt as he trailed a hand in between them, against her damp panty, and started moving his fingers in addition to the friction they already had going in between them. "I…"

"You do you, Carrots," he said, sweat breaking in his forehead at the strain, just as she tensed, moaning against his neck, trembling. Oh, how she had needed this. All this anticipation. All this tension since the night before. And the night before that. She felt as if she was melting as Gilbert held her completely again, entering the bedroom and laying her in the middle of the bed and standing up.

"I don't even know what overtook me," she confessed in between breaths. Because it had been so fast. So sudden. He looked at her sprawled form above the duvet and smiled.

"I don't know either, but no one is complaining, Anne-girl. I love feeling you come against me," he said, looking at her straight in the eyes. She bit her lip, blushing. "Do not be embarrassed, Anne. There is no reason for it. I really do love it," he said sternly, and she half nodded. "Now… I was about to kiss every little spare space of your body, if you'd allow me," he said softly, his eyes unwavering from hers. She swallowed, not really understanding why on earth someone would like to do so if she was homely and so full of freckles, but the adoration in his eyes seemed to tell another story. One that made her curious. So she nodded. "May I…?" he said, his hands over her panties.

Anne nodded. Please. Because the need hadn't gone away. Not yet. She was starting to doubt it ever would. So Gilbert trailed them slowly down her legs, watching how moist they were below, and threw them in the direction of the hampster, not even caring to check if they had made it. He was too busy kneeling in between her legs, kissing her stomach, going freckle by freckle like he had dreamt of doing for half his life, feeling how she squirmed underneath him, how she left out little sighs and whimpers and moans that were getting him impossibly hard inside his pants he had yet to take off.

He let his kisses wander lower, getting closer to her thighs, giving small nibbles as Anne tried not to let her hips move as they were insisting to. But when he gave an open mouthed kiss to the inner side of her thighs she couldn't help the thrust forward, and felt him smile against her. She tried to control her breathing, but her heart was pounding so hard against her chest it wasn't really possible. She tried propping herself on her elbows just as Gilbert was looking at her, pausing for a moment to ask for a silent permission and she understood in a flash of a moment what he was about to do, her eyes going as wide as they could at the notion of Gilbert Blythe actually…

"I kind of need you to say yes, darling girl," he said, even when her expression was probably all he needed. But he had been asking for her consent every time he did anything that he hadn't before, and he wasn't about to change that. He saw her inhale deeply, as if she was about to submerge in water, but she didn't manage to say anything. He blew a little air on her center, making her squirm and he looked at her again. "I would love this, but only if you would as well. And I'm not assuming anything now," he said in a soft, low voice, and saw her swallow again as she nodded. "Voice, Carrots."

"Y-yes," she managed to stammer, and he spread her legs further apart. Just slightly.

First, he kissed the inner part of her thighs again, even closer to her center that before, before just going for what he wanted, trailing his tongue alongside Anne's softest folds as she moaned throatily, reclining as she didn't feel like she had the strength to look at Gilbert do that to her. She had never actually imagined how this would feel, never thinking anyone would actually do it on her, and the softness and control of his lips and tongue were beyond anything she could have imagined. Beyond anything in her frame of reference. So soft. So wet. Moving so precisely against her very center, but without any edge, any harshness… she felt a tingling first, but soon noticed this was beyond any orgasm she had ever felt, alone or with Gilbert.

He raised his eyes, looking at hers directly as he propped her hips slightly up to have better access, and saw how flushed she was, how erratically she was breathing, how her moans had nothing to do with the shy ones from the past few weeks. How she just seemed to be getting even wetter than before and how her taste was so divine to him he could have never imagined. It was sweeter than nothing. It was essentially Anne, concentrated, and he drank it like there was nothing else in life that could nourish him.

When she came, she felt she was actually shattering. Breaking. Exploding or imploding, she wasn't sure, but there was no way she was going to be the same person next morning. Even look the same- how could she? Gilbert heard her moans turn into actual cries for the first time and continued what he was doing as she unconsciously held his head in place, her hips arching, every muscle tensing impossibly, until he felt her relax and her cries turn into heavy breaths.

Sitting on his knees, Gilbert looked at her, a silly smile on his lips. He had done that. Anne looked at him, eyes the widest he had seen on her face, pupils so dilated the blue looked dark, her mouth slightly open in a confused awe. He cleaned around his mouth with his thumb and then licked it, seeing how she tried to regain her breath.

"What… on earth… was that..?" she asked in between breaths.

"Just me lavishing you as I've dreamt of doing since I was seventeen," he said, not taking his eyes off her, seeing her blush deeper. "And you liking it, apparently," he added, not containing his smile. She giggled but then saw him more detailedly.

"Why are you wearing pants?" she asked after a moment.

"It's what I wear to go out of our home, Carrots. It would be of no use for me to walk around in underwear."

"Prat," she scolded him. "Just… take them off?" there was really nothing more he could do to postpone this, and she wanted to feel him again in her. His tongue, great as it was, not wide or long enough… which was good and normal, she decided. But she wanted him.

Gilbert got up, not taking his eyes off her, and undid the button, sliding the pants down his legs, boxers and all. After all this, he doubted he had the strength and will to hold himself much longer. Anne stretched her hand towards the nightstand, grabbing the box they had bought some hours before and threw it at him. He caught it easily, chuckling, and took out one package, tossing the box to the side. As Anne saw him slide the condom on his erection, pressing the tip carefully, she felt her stomach jump in anticipation. This was happening. Now. For real this time, not in that rushed thing they've done before on Bash's sofa on Friday. He kneeled on the bed in front of her.

"Anne," he said in a low voice, trying to sound like he was very well possessed while he probably hadn't felt this nervous in a very long time. She looked at him. "I need you to promise me, if you're not comfortable, if something hurts… You will tell me. And we will try something else," he said carefully, too aware of her previous experiences to take this casually.

"I will, Gil," she answered, feeling her chest warm at the notion that he really did care. He nodded slightly, leaning down to kiss her, her hand immediately taking to his hair as he supported himself in a forearm, the opposite hand caressing her as she squirmed below him.

His erection between her legs, he moved slightly against her, taking his length over her center and making her gasp. He continued that slight touch for a moment, until she moaned slightly, as he kissed her down her throat. Trailing his hand down, he grabbed his erection and guided it towards her entrance, putting in just the tip as he moved to look at her in the eyes. She nodded slightly and he thrusted a little bit deeper, going back afterwards to the initial position.

Anne felt like he was somehow teasing her. She wanted him. All of him. Not just this tiny bit. So the next time he moved forward (just a little bit deeper, again), she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him towards her. All of him. Inside her. At once. He moaned, not having expected her bold move.

"Goodness, Carrots…" he said, his voice hoarse, not daring to move, feeling her let out a deep breath she seemed to have been holding forever. She felt complete, now. This was it. Gilbert moved tentatively against her and she corresponded in kind. Slowly. Carefully.

"Gilbert…" she said, because saying his name as he was inside of her was about as close to perfection as life could get.

"Anne," he answered, ignoring the hairs sticking to his nape and just watching her, caressing her cheek with his free hand as they slowly found a rhythm that was good for them both. "I love you so much, my dear girl," he said, leaning down to kiss her and feeling how she melted against his kiss. He felt he was getting closer and was not sure of how he was going to hold it until Anne came as well when she caressed his cheek.

"You go ahead, Gilbert Blythe," she said to him, when she realized she was not going to have another orgasm that day and that she didn't mind in the slightest. She knew how much she was loved. She wasn't being denied any pleasure. She'd had so much already and wanted him to have all that and more. "I love you, Gil," she added, and he saw this was not about her past history or about her refraining or holding anything, but just about her loving him as much as he loved her.

And that conviction, and just hearing those words from her lips for the first time, was all he needed to get closer to the edge. Anne felt how erratically he was thrusting now, almost as if he was losing control, and for a second she thought he was, his breathing turning into ever deeper moans as he felt himself exploding in her, tension coming to his body as he found release in the one place he had always wanted. How he had always dreamt of doing. Like everything in the whole world was alright and good and nothing could ever go wrong again. The world went still and silent for a second, only a throaty moan coming out of him as he tried to voice her name, not really accomplishing it by the intensity with which he was feeling everything in his body.

Anne hugged his back, a huge smile on her face as she trailed her hand up and down his spine. He tried to regain his breath and moved to lie on her side, holding the base of the spent condom as he retreated and then taking it off and making a knot at the end. He left it carefully on the floor and laid back again, Anne immediately curling on his chest, the sun from the summer afternoon bathing them in a warm glow.

"How nice is to be home," she whispered, completely at ease as he caressed her back lazyly. He kissed the top of her head.

"It's perfect," he conceded. They stayed like that for a while, just cuddling contentedly.

"You had some news, before," Anne said, as she suddenly remembered something he had said when he entered the house.

"Yes. I also said we needed to talk, Carrots. Something you artfully distracted me from doing, even when I was making a solid argument," he answered teasingly, and she giggled.

"I have no idea of anything you said," she confessed.

"I figured as much, Anne-girl," he chuckled. "I might have received a more vocal answer from any of your plants."

"I'm sorry? You were just distracting," she admitted, and he held her a bit tighter, laughing.

"I like being distracting, to be honest," he said cheekily and she laughed.

"You're pushing it, Gilbert."

"In all seriousness, though… We do need to talk, Anne," he said, looking earnestly at her. He did not want to keep ignoring the issue. She sighed as he played with her hands, kissing her knuckles and flexing and extending them as he used to do since they were teens. He caressed her softly with his thumb.

"I talked with Cole. He… helped me realize that I've been looking for something I have right in front of me, Gil," she said in a low voice, caressing his chest and turning slightly to look at him. "You're my home. Or the closest thing I have to one, and I would rather make it with you than going around chasing some empty memory. I'm done chasing around."

"Are you sure, Anne? I… I will be honest with you," he said, looking for her eyes. "I want you to move in with me. Officially and permanently. I'm not looking for some short-term thing with you, Carrots. One day in the future I want to have a family with you, redheaded kids and all. To marry you. To be by your side and celebrate every book you publish or any professional milestone you achieve in whatever path you chose. To have a house and a dog and have all our friends tease us for how long it took to get there while we have dinner. I want you, yes, but I also want you to come into this understanding what I have in mind and not thinking this is a quarantine whim. This is what I've dreamt of for many years. So, do you really want to move in with me?" he asked, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck. That he would not scare her with his talks of family and dogs and teasing friends. She looked at him and the fear he had in his eyes and for a split second an image of her life without him crossed her mind. Roughly, the past ten years. It was hell. She'd rather fight with him than be far from him. And eventually she wanted kids. Hopefully not redheaded ones.

"Yes, Gilbert Blythe, I want to move in with you," she said, the end of the sentence a bit blurry as he kissed her deeply for a moment, capturing her lips strongly and trying to convey how much that meant to him. He let her go and she giggled as he smiled broadly, holding her face in his hands.

"I love you, Anne," he said, looking at her eyes, feeling peace inside. She felt a knot on her throat and tried to speak, but only a weird sound came out and he held her close to his heart. She hugged him tightly, her face hiding in the crook of his neck as she smelled his unique gilberty scent that, she realized now, was what home smelt like. This, this was what she had been looking for all these years. "Oh, and Fred and Ella are having a baby," he added, because he was so happy for everything he just wanted her to celebrate with her.

"What? Are you kidding? Best news ever!" she exclaimed, sitting up.

"I differ. Best news ever is you, almost naked on our bed after making love with me and agreeing to live with me for good," he said smiling, kissing her.