If anyone's wondering why this took me so long, blame an incredibly conservative, religious upbringing. It takes a lot out of me to write about (even as indirectly as this) something that up until a few years ago was taboo in my world. I apologize and hope this is somewhat worth it!
A few weeks ago, Anne Shirley would've never imagined she'd be mostly horizontal on Gilbert Blythe's couch in his dimly-lit apartment. She never would've thought her sweater would be dangling off the armrest of the chair next to her. And she certainly wouldn't have imagined she'd be running her hands up and down Gil's chest while the smell of slightly-burning spaghetti sauce lingered in the air.
However, there she was, lying underneath Gil while his hands swept frantically over every part of her he could reach. Anne smiled against his mouth and pushed back slightly.
"There's no hurry, Gil," she whispered, looking into his eyes kindly. "I'm not going anywhere-you can take your time."
Gil blushed at her words and dropped his head into the crook of her neck. He mumbled something against her skin, but she couldn't quite decipher the rumbles.
"Gil?" Anne asked and combed her fingers through his curls.
"I just..." Gil began, pulling his head up again and facing her. "I don't want to...rush you, but I feel like... I have to take what I can get while you'll let me..."
"Gil!" Anne said, pulling her body out from under his slightly. "What do you mean?"
Gil twisted into a sitting position and ran a hand through his hair. He breathed deeply before turning to look at her.
"Anne, well, that night at Di's wedding," Gil said slowly. "I mean, it was a disaster in a lot of ways, but it was perfect in a lot of ways too. At least, to me it was. One moment, everything was perfect, and I was so sure I'd finally get to be with you, and you were ready to be with me. And then, suddenly, you were pulling yourself away from me and running back to him."
"Gil, I-" Anne began, reaching out and grabbing his hand softly.
"No, it's fine," Gil said, squeezing her hand gently. "There were a lot of things happening then, for both of us. But up until a few days ago, I thought that moment upstairs at Di's house was the only thing I'd have, like that, for us forever. And now, I know things between us are different—and that's the best thing that's ever happened to me, Anne! But I still want as much of you as I can get—so long as you let me. And I know that sounds like that nastiest male thought ever, and I promise I don't mean it that way at all. I'll take whatever you want to give me, and I'll wait as long as you want. I just want to make the most of our time together, after all this time."
"Gil," Anne said, leaning over closer to him. "I want to do whatever you want to do. And I love that you respect me and what I want, and I never had a doubt in my mind that you wouldn't. You're the best man I've ever known, and honestly, I want to go as fast as you do! I feel like a fool for putting us off this long, and I want to remedy that delay as soon as you're ready."
Her encouraging words lit Gil's eyes with so much hope and heat that Anne felt her stomach flip. Knowing Gil might still be somewhat hesitant, she knew she would have to make the first step.
Rising from the couch and stepping in front of Gil, Anne smoothed her hand against his cheek and looked down at the curly-haired man.
"Now, I know I haven't really hung out here in a while and that there's not much space to get lost in," Anne began, an involuntary blush warming her cheeks despite her confidence. "But it would be helpful if you could show me to your bedroom."
"Do you want parmesan on top? I have the sprinkle kind and the powdery kind," Gil's voice rang from the next room.
"The sprinkle kind would be great," Anne answered, pulling the flannel sheet around her more securely.
She turned to look at her reflection in Gil's window. Her hair was positively wild, and her eye makeup was smudged more than usual. She tried vainly to smooth down her curls as Gil walked back into the bedroom. Hopefully, he still found her attractive in this state.
"So, the sauce is a definitely a little burnt, and reheating noodles in the microwave isn't exactly ideal," Gil said, as he balanced two plates, a bottle of wine and two glasses on a cookie sheet. "But I think it'll still taste fine, and with this very special bottle of the cheapest yet highest alcohol volume wine, I think it'll taste great!"
Gil placed the makeshift tray onto the foot of the bed, poured Anne a tumbler of wine and handed her the cup and a plate of spaghetti.
"Thank you, Gil," Anne said smiling at his earnest expression. "I have no doubt that this will be the best meal I've ever had in bed with you."
"Well, I'm glad I've set that bar so low initially," Gil laughed, moving into bed next to her. "Now, I can feed you anything that isn't three hour old spaghetti and you'll think it's five-star dining."
Anne rolled her eyes dramatically at him and took a sip of her wine. The pair ate quietly for a few moments—neither wholly believing what had happened. She had very much enjoyed herself; Gil had been exactly as thoughtful, kind and accommodating as she'd always secretly imagined he'd be. It wasn't perfect in a technical sense, but she'd learned about what he seemed to like as they went, and she could hardly wait to try again. She just desperately hoped Gil was on the same page.
"So," Anne began, twirling the noodles aimlessly on her plate and purposefully not meeting his eyes. "Was it worth the wait?"
Gil didn't answer for a moment, and her old doubts began to rise. Had she been too awkward? Was he not as attracted to her as he'd been before? Was she a disappointment after all these years?
"I would have waited twenty years for that," Gil voice interrupted her thoughts. "Though I'm glad I didn't, and I sincerely hope the turnaround on the next time is considerably shorter."
She met his eyes finally and saw only sincerity there.
"You were everything I had ever let myself imagine. You are so beautiful and lovely," Gil said, his hand touching hers gently. "And I can't believe I can finally touch you like that,"
"Me too," Anne said, her heart nearly bursting.