As always, I don't own Anne with an E
[Hey, guys. Sorry, for the long wait on this update. Real life kinda interrupted, lol. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy! ]
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Gilbert avoided going home that night for as long as possible. Though he loved his family, he found himself reluctant at the thought of tainting their joy with his sorrow. He kept to the wooded paths, where the branches were so thick overhead as to block out the starlight. His thoughts in turmoil, Gilbert hardly noticed the darkness.
Anne had told him everything he could've hoped to hear. She understood, he was forgiven, they were friends. And yet... Her tone had been empty, missing that crystalline inflection of emotion that resonated in his mind when she spoke. Now, she spoke like the words were a hardship.
Shame dropped low in his belly with a leaden weight. Perhaps she was only telling him what he wished to hear. Bile rose to the back of his throat and Gilbert was overcome with thoughts of self-loathing. Of course, she'd tell him what he wanted to hear. She'd been traumatized. On top of all the ghosts their trip today had resurrected in Anne's psyche, he'd had to add one more.
All at once, Gilbert wished for his father. His father would know what to do. How to make amends. But his father was dead. And the woman he loved either hated him or was afraid of him.
At the sharp jolt of pain singing through his knees, Gilbert realized he must've collapsed. All at once his consciousness was lost to grief. Alone in the woods, Gilbert howled out his agony.
It was hours later when he finally came home and crawled into bed. Sleep did not come easy, though Gilbert felt exhausted to his bones. Sunlight had begun to seep through the window when he finally drifted off.
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Anne woke that Sunday morning determined to behave naturally towards Gilbert. No more coldness, they would truly be friends. She dressed early for church, and rushed through her morning chores, earning a scolding from Marilla at her absentmindedness.
They left on time, and ended up arriving early at the church, but Gilbert was nowhere to be found. In fact, no one from the Blythe-LeCroix household had made it to service that morning. The sermon began and Anne was forced to abandon her search, knowing the pastor wouldn't appreciate her wandering gaze. But while he may have the attention of her eyes, she could not quite surrender her mind. Where were they? Anne fought off visions of calamity, and forced herself to focus on the pastor's voice. It ultimately proved to be a fruitless endeavor.
After the service, Marilla demanded Anne accompany her home, so she was unable to seek Gilbert out until school the next day.
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Gilbert was awoken by a soft knock on his bedroom door. He answered the knock with a soft grunt, and forced his bleary eyes open. It was Mary. She stood, pensive, in the doorway, and would not move further into the room.
Though still foggy with exhaustion (he could've only been asleep for a few hours) Gilbert could recognize that that something was wrong.
"Mary?" His voice was raspy.
"Oh, Gilbert," Mary answered, her eyes darting up, briefly, to meet his before lowering once more to the floor. "I have something to tell you, but I can't find the words."
Gilbert sat up and moved to rise from the bed. Feet meeting the hardwood beneath, he stood and walked over to where his sister-in-all-but-blood still stood, lingering not quite within the room.
"What is it, Mary?"
"M-my son-oh Gilbert, I'm sorry!- Elijah came to visit yesterday and I invited him to stay. I hadn't seen my baby boy in so long. I thought he could stay with us for a while. He met Delphine! It was hard on him, though, I think. I didn't recognize it at the time. We let him stay in your father's room. I didn't think you'd mind. I thought he might like to hold her, but Elijah-he gave the baby back to me and went into the bedroom. It was hours before I saw him again. He promised me he wasn't drinking but….he lied. He came in reeking of hooch, and we argued. It was awful, but I thought we'd resolved it. But this morning! Oh, Gilbert. How to say it?"
Mary paused, took a fortifying breath, and met Gilbert's eyes with her own.
"Elijah must've left in the night and he took-he took-" She couldn't continue.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as Gilbert dashed out the doorway, his feet carrying him to his father's room before his conscious mind had fully processed Mary's words.
He faltered in the doorway.
Clearly, Elijah had left no stone unturned in his quest for items of value in the room. It was completely ransacked. Cautiously, as though uncertain of the ground he walked on, Gilbert entered the room in which his father died. Beneath the evidence of crime lay the remnants of a carelessness that Gilbert found repugnant. For the younger man had spilt wine on his father's books, cracked the old shaving mirror down the middle, ashed the remnants of numerous cigars on the glass of his mother's picture. It lay face up on the table beside his father's bed, where it had rested all his life It was the only image of her he'd ever known.
He picked it up in his hands, felt the weight of it, and stared unblinking at the desolation around him.
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On the walk to school Monday morning, Anne contemplated how to approach the Gilbert situation. She wanted to apologize for scolding him the other day, and felt like maybe he would understand why she'd snapped at him. Marilla had kept her at home all day Sunday, though, determined to take her measurements head to toe for a dress she was beginning to design. By the time that was finished, it was close to dinner time. Anne dreaded any awkwardness being noticed by the other youth, but she resolved to be candid with him. They were friends now. He deserved it.
Anne crossed over a field-left to lie fallow for the season-and met the road in front of the schoolhouse. She'd arrived early, hoping to catch Gilbert alone before the other students came. He typically sat on the steps out front with his book until it was time to go in. There he sat today as well, though his book lay abandoned in his lap.
"Gilbert?" Anne stood just beside him, but he appeared not to have noticed her presence. She reached out to grasp his shoulder.
At the contact, Gilbert jumped. The book slid off his lap, hitting the stone path below and falling open.
"Anne!" He cried, shocked at her proximity.
"Gilbert? Is everything alright?"
Anne's searched the older boy's eyes face for some explanation of his odd behavior. Dark circles ringed his eyes giving the rest of his face an ashy pallor. Anne wondered if he'd been sleeping poorly.
She moved beside him and lowered herself on to the steps.
"What's wrong?" She queried.
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Gilbert knew endeavoring to read his book, "Essentials of Medical Chemistry, Organic and Inorganic, " a hefty tome from Dr. Ward's office, was a futile effort. The text had fascinated Gilbert the week before, when he'd borrowed it from his mentor's library, but now, the words blurred together on the page. He'd been staring off into space when suddenly, as though conjured from his mind, Anne was there standing beside him. She was so close.
He heard the thunk of the heavy book as it landed on the stone path. He'd felt it fall, but hadn't been able to stop it.
His focus on dusting off the text and placing it in his bag, Gilbert was startled anew to find Anne sitting beside him. He felt her arm graze against his own.
At her question, his gaze darted up to her face, and he was drawn into her eyes. Impossibly blue eyes. Like a clear summer sky at midday. She beseeched him with those eyes. He answered.
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"Mary's son came to visit. I guess he met Delphine, but it didn't go so well. He got to drinking and there was an argument. Mary didn't say exactly what happened, but she's got a rather nasty cut on her hand. When Bash and Mary woke up, he was gone and he'd taken everything of my father's that might catch a good price with him-including his medal. What was left was thrown around or destroyed. I'm just having difficulty wrapping my head around it. I know that they're just things, but they were HIS things. Somehow, it feels like losing him all over."
"Oh, Gilbert. That's awful," Anne responded. She felt a sob catch in her throat and swallowed it down. She'd never had anything to remember her parents by, but the thought of having something only to lose it...He must be devastated.
Anne reached her arm around Gilbert's back and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew nothing she could say would fill the loss he felt, so she remained silent.
He was the first to speak.
"Anne. About what happened Saturday-"
"Oh!" She gasped, lifting her head away to meet his eyes. "I have something I need to say about that. Gilbert, I'm sorry I was so defensive that day. It wasn't you, it was that place. But I took it out on you and that's not fair. I hope you can forgive me."
"If anyone needs forgiven, it's me, Anne. I forced you to kiss me-"
"-I kissed you back!" Anne's declaration echoed in the open air, and the silence that followed was deafening.
"W-what?"
Anne sat frozen, mortified at her own forwardness. Every instinct in her body screamed "Run!" and she obeyed, snagging her books and dashing into the schoolroom.
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Gilbert sat motionless on the stairs as Anne's parting words registered in his psyche. She'd kissed him back? But then why run away now? Despite her rather abrupt departure, Gilbert felt a new hope spring into being in his heart.
She'd kissed him back.
Okay, he could wait. He'd win her over. Resolved on his course of action, Gilbert stood up and made his own way indoors.
