CHAPTER XIV

The Home

in which home does not specifically have to be a place

[ PLAY THE SONG hehe ]

If you had asked the people that loved her the most, they would all have agreed on the fact that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had a special, innate talent for so many different things. She was artistic, passionate, an avid reader and an ambitious writer. But not everyone knew that she was a fast runner as well. For years, she had run through the never-ending fields of Avonlea, trying to reach impressive cliffs or towring trees. Yet she had not ran so fastly in her entire life as fast as she was running in this precise moment.

A train for Alberton was leaving Avonlea train station in less than ten minutes.

And she was late.

The previous day, when she had visited Matthew's grave, she made the decision that she had to do something; she could not stay in Avonlea forever, waiting for him to come back to her. He probably wouldn't, anyway, she thought, as she desperately ran through the fields. She needed to get to him. She needed to find Gilbert and tell him how immensely sorry she was for her behaviour.

Visiting Matthew's grave after all this time had helped her in some way. It had made her realise that she was still able to make a change — whereas Matthew could not. She could choose the option of being mournful and heartbroken over his death, she could choose anger and melancholy. But she had other choices. She had not been herself ever since her adoptive father left this cruel, yet beautiful and fascinating world. For once, she wanted to choose her own happiness, and that included Gilbert Blythe.

When Anne had finally arrived to the station, the train had just left, vanishing in the distance as the girl hopelessly watched it disappear.

No, no no, no no, NO!

"Excuse me, sir?" she approached one of those men in uniform, assuming he would be one of the station's workers. "Would please tell me when the next train for Alberton is?"

"Not until next Friday, I'm afraid"

"FRIDAY?" she cried out in a high-pitched and annoyed voice that reminded her of her old self. Of her true self.

"I'm sorry, miss" he man answered, scratching the back of his neck. A gesture that again, reminded her of him.

Anne sat on a bench inside the station, watching the lonely and quiet train tracks. Unbelievable. She would have to wait for almost a week to see Gilbert again. And she did not even knew if he was actually there, in Alberton, or somehwere else, farther from her. The prospect of not seing him ever again made her flinch in pain.

A train had just arrived from God knows where and the miserable girl watched the crowd of people getting off; families, farmers, lovely couples — people in general, moving from one side of the platform to another. "It's what I deserve" she mumbled after letting out an sigh of exasperation. "I treated him so poorly that he did not even say goodbye when he left" she fixed her eyes on the ground, regretting every single word he told the boy that awful day, three months ago. "I doubt he even wants to see me again" she sighed as she nervously played with a neatly folded piece of paper that she kept inside her pocket. Her eyes were still glued to her boots when a voice broke through the bustling crowd of people.

"Anne?"

That voice. It was calm, dauntless, safe. And there was something so familiar in the way that he pronounced her name, the way the sounds formed to create those four letters and how they left his lips... She would have recognized it anywhere.

She lifted her eyes to face him, to make sure it was not one of her daydreams. He really was there. Carrying a not-so-heavy old suitcase in his left hand, looking beyond tired and with his hair messier than ever, there he was – Gilbert Blythe in person. It had been three months since the last time she had seen him, yet it had felt like decades.

He had been away for almost a year when he left Avonlea to work in that steamership. However, they had felt closer when there was an entire and infinite ocean separating them than during these horrible past three months.

And in that moment he really was there. It was not a product of her imagination or one of the dreams that haunted her every night ever since he left. She had longed for his presence for so long; she had imagined different scenarios in which they would meet again; she had prepared a magnificient apology speech on her mind, but once again, the mere sight of Gilbert Blythe had left her speechless.

"Gil?"

"Anne" his voice was trembling now. He dropped his suitcase to the ground, as the girl ran into his arms. He closed his eyes as soon as his arms wrapped around the girl's figure.

"Please, please, forgive me" tears had started to escape her eyes, and she was not even trying to held them back. "I was so childish and so tremendously cruel, and vile a-and noxious!" she realised that she was rambling a nonsensical mess of words, so she separated a bit from him to look at him. "I wanted to write but I didn't know where you were"

"Anne, it's okay" he said calmly. His hands were on her back, still holding her. Hers were pressed against his chest — almost in a romantical way that would have made her furious if she had seen them from the outside.

"How is this okay? I was so cruel to you, you don't deserve that!" there were still tears rolling down her face, although this time the boy had wiped them away with soft and careful hands. She looked so fragile and vulnerable in that moment that the boy was scared of breaking her somehow.

"I said horrible things too" he admitted with all his honesty. He should have never left Avonlea so abruptly. Not after having promised her that he would never, ever leave her.

"Because I provoked you!"

"It's all forgotten"

"No it's not!" of course, she fought back. The boy sighed and looked down at her.

"Anne" he moved his hands from her back and placed them on her shoulders, feeling the girl shiver from the contact. "We've wasted quite enough time" he said. "Let's not argue again, okay?"

Minutes later they were making their way to a field of flowers that Anne claimed to be the most beautiful scenert she had ever seen. There she is, back to herself again, he thought as he smiled fondly. The girl looked up at Gilbert as they walked in silence. He was looking at his front, eyebrows furrowed in an expression of concentration. I wonder what he's thinking about, Anne thought.

They sat in the clearing as Gilbert told Anne about what he had been up to those past three months. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her, and so did she, but that  would only bring an unneccesary tension; so instead, they kept a friendly talk based on updating each other's lives.

After all the talking, silence came and reigned over the comfortable breeze of April. Gilbert stared at the sky, still sitting on the grass and leaning on his elbows. The sun was setting and there was a beautiful mixture of an orangish color in the sky and Anne's auburn hair swiftly moving in the wind that made him feel content about the sight. The girl, oblivious to the boy's stare, was a few feet away from him, picking some flowers from the grass.

After having selected the most alluring and delicate flowers, she stood in front of him, blocking the sun from him with her shadow.

Little did she know that she was the only sun the boy could ever see.

"I think I owe you a dance" she said, holding a beautiful and picturesque variety of flowers in her hands, offering them to the boy.

"W-what?"

"I did not even give you the chance to ask me to that Winter's b-"

"I said it's o-"

"Don't interrupt me" she said, causing a wide grin in the boy's face, as the shook his head. "Avonlea's holding a Spring Ball withing a few weeks" her voice was clear and firm. "Would you kindly give me the pleasure of being my escort?"

He remained silent for a few seconds, admiring her from the spot where he was sitting in before getting up off the ground and delicately taking the flowers from her hands. "It would be my pleasure to be your date"

"I said escort"

"That's exactly what I said" he said calmly. "It's getting dark, let me walk you home" he picked his suitcase from the ground and, feeling bold, placed his hand on her back as he guided the way back to Green Gables.

Surprisingly, the girl did not protest.

He had walked her to her door, as per usual. As Gilbert said, it was starting to get dark and the sky had adopted an unusual mixture of pink and lilac colors, matching the path of flowers that lead to Green Gables.

"Well, I... guess I'll see you" he said once they were standing on the porch. His words sounded different; cautious, actually, as if he feared making her mad again. Although he knew that the redheaded girl would always be, in some way, mad at him. That was their dynamic, and there was nothing he could do about it — he secretly loved it when they argued like two old crows.

"Goodbye, Gil" They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, reminding both of them that last time they had seen each other in Charlottetown, two years ago, before he left — none of them wanted to let go off each other back them and the feeling of longing for each other was still secretly there.

Once the girl had placed her hand on the doorknob, he turned around to make his way back home. "Gilbert, wait!" she said, making the boy stop and turn around. He looked at her with a puzzled expression, yet there was a certain glimmering of... hope? in his eyes that made the butterflies in Anne's stomach fly uncontrollably.

She walked towards him, quickly jumping the two steps that separated Green Gables' porch from the ground. She run towards him the same way she had done hours ago when she had seen him at the train station. What Anne did next took Gilbert Bythe completely off guard.

She kissed his cheek.

It was light as a feather, as brief as a second — but he felt it. Her warm lips softly brushing against his cheek.

Then the girl wrapped her arms around him again, placing her head in his chest. The boy did not react at first — he was too shocked and his legs were not working properly. This was the third time they has hugged. Oh, yes, he had counted them.

The first time she hugged him was when he cried over his father's day, that last day of summer. He had never let himself be so vulnerable in front of anyone. But she was the only one who could tear down his walls. She was the only one he would ever let himself be vulnerable.

The second time, it was him the one who hugged her. She had just lost Matthew, and he was there to confort her. Every single tear she had cried hurt him like an arrow in his chest, but the boy figured he needed to be strong for the both of them.

They had been each other's anchors when they had needed someone. They had embraced each other when they had lost someone — a kindred spirit.

But that third time, in that exact moment, it was completely different. They were not holding each other over a loss. Much the contrary, they had just won something.

Someone.

"You're here" she whispered, out of breath, looking at him as she separated a bit from him, although he was still embracing her tightly her in his arms. "You really are here"

"I'm home" he whispered as he buried his face in the crook of the girl's neck — something that months ago would have made him cringe over the intimate contact between the two of them; but not anymore. He was sure. He was sure about his feelings for her, more than ever. And he was sure that no place felt like home as Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.

____

A/N - I did some research on the geography of Prince Edward's Island to find a proper name for a town, and I found Alberton, which seemed like a suitable name idk

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