Gilbert locked eyes with Anne, her gaze a captivating shade of blue. At that moment, unspoken feelings passed between them, as every action they made was in sync—just like their dance. He silently willed her to break the silence, and to his relief, she did.

"Thank you for the dance," she muttered. Gilbert nodded in reply, relieved that her voice was functioning better than his. "I, uh, look forward to dancing with you again sometime. At the fair, perhaps? Let's talk about it. I don't know about you, but I hate this awkward silence. It's not like us at all. Usually, there's a bit more excitement paired with some good old competitive flare."

Gilbert's heart raced as they stepped out of the schoolhouse together, Anne's cheerful chatter a stark contrast to his inner turmoil. He was torn between reaching for her hand, a move that could change everything. However, the fear of jeopardising their friendship, but most of all, the fear of rejection had won out.

"Did you know Moody could play like that?"

Gilbert felt grateful for the distraction and chuckled at his friend's often boasted-about expert skills. "He's full of surprises, isn't he? Ruby certainly seemed to like it. I'm happy to declare that she may have moved on from the likes of me. Honestly, she should've done it ages ago."

"Why? It shows she has good taste."

Gilbert frowned and glanced sideways at her, wanting to know what she meant by that. Her reddened cheeks gave him reason to think that perhaps she, too, thought him a worthy partner. He banished those thoughts, desperate not to ruin their friendship and break his heart. Better safe than sorry, although deep down, he couldn't help but wonder if he was being too cautious.

'"It's a good thing we managed to do it correctly, though I do fear I'll forget the steps when I do it for real," Anne remarked, humour in her voice, entirely unaware of the torment Gilbert was experiencing. "How funny was our first attempt? Can you imagine doing that at the fair? We must've looked like a bunch of animals!"

She laughed, and nothing sounded better to Gilbert's ears. Her laughter alone had increased his mood as well as his confidence. "It sure was hilarious, though our second attempt needed improving too."

Anne regarded him curiously. "What do you mean? We did it correctly on the second try." Realisation dawned on her, and her voice shook as she spoke. "Oh, do you mean when you…"

Before Anne could finish, Gilbert caught her arm and pulled her close, mimicking his unthinkable actions earlier, though he did it gentler than before. She was so close the warmth of her breath radiated off his cheek, the air thick with the unspoken tension between them.

"That was the part that needed improving. I should've done it more like this: not so rough, but more gentle. Do you agree?"

He loosened his grip, making his touch as feather-light as possible. Gilbert knew he was crossing a line with Anne but didn't care. He needed to see her reaction to what he hoped would be a swoon-worthy gesture. Though, he was also fully prepared for a justified smack across the face. No smack came; instead, Anne appeared to have enjoyed his display.

A bright shade of red had blossomed on her cheeks, and her breathing came out like small, shaky puffs. Gilbert also noticed that her braids looked somewhat dishevelled from this rather stimulating encounter. When she answered him, her voice was barely audible, certainly not the voice of the wordy, articulate Anne he knew and loved. Her eyes, however, were what spoke volumes, filled with a mix of surprise, curiosity, and a hint of excitement.

'Uh, that would certainly give people something to talk about—and for me to write about,' Anne croaked, and Gilbert smirked as she reacted just as he hoped she would.

'I don't regret it,' he replied, his voice low. His eyes bore into hers, trying to see if he could set something into motion here, only for Anne to pull away from him, much to his disappointment.

'Neither did I, but we'd better get moving,' Anne said, her voice tinged with regret. 'Not that I'm not enamoured of this, but Marilla doesn't like it when I'm late. Plus, it's a little early for that. Some other time, perhaps? When we're older and a little more—mature?' Gilbert nodded, his heart sinking at the thought of waiting, but he knew she was right. Some maturing needed to be done before they could embark on such a terrifying journey together.

Shuffling those thoughts to the back of his mind, Gilbert continued onwards with Anne walking alongside him, both reeling from what had happened. As they strode along, their hands brushed against each other, a silent promise of sorts. Gilbert needed another distraction and quick.

'You know, Anne,' Gilbert began, hoping to lighten the mood and distract from his thoughts. 'I can't promise I won't try to pull you out of line when we dance at the fair. But I'll try to keep it to a minimum, for your sake.'

Anne laughed again, and they stopped at the familiar white house. 'Yes, that would be for the best,' she responded, her voice carrying a hint of mischief and some leftover anxiety, still recovering from his actions. 'Though that is for your sake, not mine. People will think the Golden Boy of Avonlea has gone around the bend. At least with me, it's to be expected.'

Gilbert chuckled in response as he lifted her hand to kiss it, observing closely how the touch of her skin was soft and warm against his lips. 'Noted, friend,' he said, letting the word 'friend' linger in the air. He observed a flurry of emotions pass across Anne's face, her reactions mirroring his like they did earlier, and it was evident that the word 'friend' didn't satisfy her either. As Gilbert watched his friend run towards Green Gables, he never felt more confident about a possible future with her.