▷ Reflections - The Neighbourhood

«Falling just as hard»

___

[DON'T PLAY THE SONG YET!]

FRED WRIGHT is the happiest man on Earth.

It obviously has to do with the fact that he's just married the girl of his dreams and now he's enjoying a late wedding after party.

A year ago, he would've wished for one more thing: the presence of his parents at his own wedding. But right now, seeing things with more perspective, as Anne would've said, he can claim that's he's in pure bliss.

He doesn't need anyone else. He already has his family — a bit unconventional, but a family still.

Talking about Anne, she's talking to some school friend. Yes, Fred remembers her, Tillie Boulter.

By the way Anne is scanning the room as Tillie talks, talks and talks, Fred can tell that his fiery redhead friend is dying to escape that conversation and go look for a certain someone.

So Fred the Wright, being the good friend he is, has to step in and interrupt Tillie's monologue.

"Tillie!" he says, his brightest, most blinding smile on his face. "You look absolutely lovely, hope you're enjoying yourself!"

"Oh, thank you, Fr-"

Tillie, holding a glass of champagne in her hands, doesn't even have time to finish the sentence.

"I'm sorry but I'm going to have to steal Anne away from you" he says. "She's been my wedding assistant, you see. I need her for- well, wedding stuff!"

Fred drags Anne aside, so that no one can hear.

"You're the best, did you know that?" Anne pulling him into a quick hug. "Thanks for dragging me away from her, she's nice but she never knows when to shut-"

Then, Anne pauses.

There's a look on Fred's face that she knows very well.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

It's that ridiculous, teasing, smug smile.

"Nothing" he says, eyebrows raised. "I just can't  believe you and Gilbert tried to steal the spotlight away from the actual couple on their wedding"

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm just kidding, tiger-Anne" he chuckles.

Anne crosses her arms over her chest. She knew Gilbert Blythe wasn't one to be known for his subtle ways of staring at her, but she'd kinda hoped no once had noticed the way they'd been acting around each other during the whole wedding.

"What do you want, Fred?"

"I want you and Gilly to fully make out"

"Yeah, well, we're back to being just friends, so"

"You can't"

"What?"

"You can't be just friends, Anne, and you know that"

Anne doesn't deny it. In fact, she doesn't say anything at all.

"For years you've build up this weird, unbearable... sexual tension that's going to explode sooner or later"

"I know"

"It will- hey, did you just agree on that?"

Yes.

"Yes, because you're right" she says. "I just don't know how to approach him. What do you suggest? Hey, Gilbert, wanna make out again?"

"What do you mean again?"

Anne's eyes widen.

Crap.

Fred wasn't supposed to know that.

"Nothing"

"You've made out before?! When?!"

"Never!"

"You did!"

Anne starts walking away from him, not taking a specific path or direction.

"Do not walk away from me, tiger-Anne! Not at my wedding!"

"Shut up, Fred"

Anne would be a fool to think that a mere "Shut up" would leave Fred speechless. He starts walking after her, chasing her with hurried foot steps and eager for an answer.

"Tell me what happened! You made out? When?"

"Never!"

"Was it in high school? When you got trapped inside that elevator?"

The redhead turns around dramatically, the long skirt of her dress dancing and flowing around, gently.

Her face? Not so gentle.

"How the fuck do you know that?"

"He's my brother, Anne, he tells me everything"

"Well, clearly, he didn't tell you that we made out, so he didn't tell you everything!"

Fred's face breaks into a smile. An "I knew it" smile.

"Aha! So you did make out"

Anne rolls her eyes before she starts walking away from a very annoying Fred again. The boy is mumbling some non-sense, something along the lines of "I knew it!" and " Son of a bitch didn't tell me!".

"God, Fred, just shut your damn mouth, I need to find him, I need to tell Gilbert that I-"

In all her annoyance, her eyes are closed, so she doesn't notice that someone's coming her way until she bumps into something.

Or someone.

"Tell me what?"

Gilbert.

"Oh..." she says. "I... well, I can tell you later!"

"Why don't you tell me now? I'm right here"

"Yeah, that makes sense"

Gilbert and Fred exchange a look. "Wanna go outside for a walk?" he suggests, eyes traveling from Fred to her.

"Sure"

They make their wake out to the gardens. What remains of the wedding's guests are still inside, so it's just the two of them.

The gardens are so baroque and elegant that Anne could picture them perfectly into a Victorian novel. Even in the dark, different shades of green come to sight, and she can even hear the low, distant murmur of water running from a fountain.

"These gardens are beautiful" he says.

Of course, he's still a mind reader.

"Yeah, they are" she whispers, hoping he doesn't notice how she blushes under the moonlight.

"They remind me of that night at Diana's pool party"

Anne didn't need him to say anything about that pool party in the first place. She remembers every single detail about it.

They walk around. Her eyes are nervously drifting from bush to bush, flower to flower. His, however, remain fixed on her and how beautiful she looks.

He can tell she's nervous.

"It's almost midnight" she says. "About two years ago, this time, we were here too"

"I scared the crap out of you" he says, and by the teasing tone of her voice Anne can tell that he's noticed she's nervous.

"No, you didn't"

"You tell that to you yourself, Shirley"

"You threw me to the pool"

"I did, didnt I?" he chuckles.

"It's a good memory. That night"

"You were so mad at me"

"I'm always mad at you"

"I know"

Their arms suddenly brush as they walk, and that reminds her of the reason why they're here, away from it all.

She needs to tell him.

She needs to tell him everything.

[PLAY THE SONG NOW!]

"There are... so many things I want to tell you about" she says. "I know we've tried to catch up and all but there's been so much in the way"

"Like?"

"I don't know. There's just too much, it's hard to summarize my life for the past two years, I don't even know where to start"

"What about Charlie?"

Anne stops right in her tracks. Her heart skips a beat, perhaps too, but again, her heart has been acting like that all evening so... it's nothing new.

She looks at him for a second, then at her feet.

"Straight to the point, aren't we?"

"Why don't you just answer the question?"

She wonders if Fred has told him. Or Diana, or Ruby, even Jerry. Perhaps they didn't. Perhaps none of them wanted to meddle in the nature of their strange, complicated relationship.

Answer the question, Anne.

She notices how he's moved to stand right in front of her, as if he was expecting an avalanche of answers and was ready to pick them all.

"We broke up over a year ago. It wasn't fair for him"

Gilbert silently raises an eyebrow. He had suspected it, but he needed confirmation. There it is — she is single.

"Why?" he asks, mouth dry, expression serious.

Anne watches him for a few seconds, taking in every single detail of his face.

She could list a hundred reasons why she broke up with Charlie:

because you after all this time you still make me feel nervous,

because I dream of you at least twice a week,

because every single song I listen reminds me of you,

because I didn't notice when we were younger but I always wanted to look pretty if you were going to be near,

because all this time I've always thought of you,

because everything reminds me of you.

because of you.

"You know why" she finally says.

"I want to hear it from you"

"I- okay" she says. She's nervous. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while. To actually tell you, I mean. No letters, no poems, no songs. Just my words right now"

She watches him shove his hands into his pockets, again. It's driving her crazy, just seeing him standing there like that, with that stupid position he always has. Just the way he casually stands is very characteristic of him.

"Go on"

"Right" she says. "I don't even know where to start. Um- do you remember that poem I read in class once? The undeniable miracle one?"

It was long ago. She doesn't actually expect him to remember, but she does. She remembers the poem she read, the poem he read, and every other poem or song they shared together, she remembers. Every single piece that connects the collage of their relationship is sharp and clear in her memory.

"Vividly" he just says.

The way his lips shortly curl up makes her think that he's kind of enjoying this kind of humiliation.

Their relationship has been some kind of wicked waiting game. He's been waiting for her, thinking of several tactics to get her where she is right now.

Check mate.

"I told you I picked it randomly"

"Yes, you did"

"Well, I didn't- I lied"

"No shit, Sherlock" he says, trying to look unbothered, taking a look around at the bushes, flowers and candlelights of the garden.

"Fuck it, Gilbert! Can't you stop being an ass for a while? I'm trying to confess- well, I'm trying to speak right now! Stop interrupting me and don't speak again until I'm done"

He doesn't reply, so she takes her as a cue to continue with whatever this is.

A confession?

An apology?

An act of surrender?

Probably all of them.

"I had it all perfectly planned and then... first day of senior year... you arrived. I mean, we'd met before, on that street, on a September evening, do you remember? Do you remember that night?"

"Yes"

His voice comes out as a mere whispers, he's too entranced watching her although Anne herself doesn't notice — she's too focused in everything she wants to tell him.

As she said before, there's just too many things she wants to say to him, but the best way to start would probably be...

the start.

"I still remember the first thing you ever told me. I was talking to myself, saying something about how ironic it was that the lyrics of the song, You're so cool, remember? The song said "body so fit"... I said... "Ironic much?" and you said-"

"I would say so, yeah" he says. "That's what I said. Then you looked at me and I thought you were going to kill me. It's that silent disappointment face you always..."

She interrupts him. In the end, that's what he gets for interrupting her in the first place. Anne knows there's no use in asking him not to talk again, because he's Gilbert Blythe and, well, he's going to end up doing whatever he wants.

"Yeah. But uh- I never thought I'd see you again. And then you showed up as the new kid at school" she says, clearly nervous. "Do you remember? You sat beside me. And you said-"

"Gilbert. Gilbert Blythe"

He offers his hand for her to take, just like he did that day at school.

The memory hits her like a truck.

She can almost replace the suit he's wearing right now for that Smiths T-shirt he wore the first day of school.

"You offered me your hand" she whispers, almost in realization, watching his hand floating in the air of the night.

She's about to take it, but he moves away.

"But you didn't take it. Then you called me a 19th century-

"- gentleman. And you called me Miss Shirley. Then Shirley, then I realized you were Walkman boy and ever since, after all this time... I just... I found my old denim jacket last summer, you know? And..."

She's rambling.

It's funny, he thinks. He saw that denim jacket too, in Diana's car. It reminded him of her and all those times when they leant their back against the old row of lockers at school, how the proximity between them wasn't dangerous at all, how he wrote the lyrics to 'Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me' in the fabric of that old jacket.

Every piece of memory, as if it was a puzzle, slowly builds up to this moment.

"It's funny... how sometimes you just... find things" he says. "Nothing's changed, has it, Shirley?"

Oh, the way he says her name...

"Everything's changed! I started thinking about you all day, all the damn time. And I was so scared, so so scared, Gilbert — because I'd never felt that way about anyone. It was all so... intense, and new, and scary... I was so confused. You... my hormones... and I... I'd never met anyone like you. But I know so much more now than I did then..."

"You do?"

"Yes! Because... no matter how moved on I'll ever tell our friends I am or how much I try to deny it! I can't contain it anymore, not even to myself"

She takes another deep breath, trying to ease her shaky hands or the lump on her throat that she can't seem to swallow.

"Now I know why it didn't feel right when I came here last summer. It didn't feel like home. And that's because we weren't friends, because we weren't talking to each other... because you've been part of my home all along. Ever since I met you, you became one of the reasons to like Avonlea. Last summer didn't work for me because you weren't around.

I've been such a fool to let myself think that I could possibly get over you. I tried to date, you know? But I couldn't. I couldn't because I always went to find something else... someone who looked like you. And I did find, more or less, guys with dark curls and green eyes, but, uh, none of them had those specks of honey and- well, uh, that's completely off the point! They simply weren't as smart as you, or interesting. The conversation didn't flow easily the way it always does with you.

It's like everything that didn't make sense before makes sense now because you're here, with me"

She pauses for a second to look at him, really look at him. His face is serious, he's not smiling anymore and for a moment it crosses her that she might be messing this up, that he might reject her and say something along the lines of "I'm glad you finally confessed your feelings but it's over for me, Anne".

But despite having that fear or rejection, she tries to trusts her instincts and trust the boy-

the man standing right in front of her.

In the end, it's just Gilbert.

But isn't that the thing? This is Gilbert, standing before her eyes. Her Gilbert, the Gilbert Blythe that's been haunting her in her sleep for two years; the Gilbert Blythe that made her question everything; the same Gilbert Blythe that caught her eye the first day of school, with his Smiths T-shirt and his way of talking about poetry and Medicine with the same enthusiasm and passion.

That's Gilbert.

That's the Gilbert she fell in love with, slowly, all over the years. The same Gilbert each and every day looks more like staring at her own reflection in the mirror.

We're just the same.

That's Gilbert.

"It's you, Gilbert. It's always been you and it will always be... you. You've always been the missing piece of my puzzle.

I didn't know back then when we first met, I just felt... an odd buzz of electricity and stupid signs of nervousness whenever you were around and... I didn't know how to read those signs then, but now... Fuck, now... Now I'm sure"

Anne closes her eyes for two or three seconds, hesitating what she's going to say. She knows that, if there ever was a chance for things to go back to the way they were, it's all lost if she keeps talking.

But she does anyway.

She just hopes that, if he does reject her, he won't be as harsh as he was two winters ago.

It's funny, she thinks. How a person can offer such security and be the object of your fears at the same time.

Gilbert Blythe was, paradoxically and without a doubt, both the storm and the calm after the storm.

"I've tried to deny it for so long, I've put all my efforts in trying to forget you — to get over you. But it's helpless, Gilbert. I didn't want to admit it at first but I've wanted you ever since I saw you with your stupid Walkman.

I'm sorry it took me so long to realize, I'm sorry that I hurt you... I know that I've caused so much trouble and pain in you and I know that perhaps it's a bit to soon because we just got our friendship back and everything that's just happened at the wedding it's just me reading signs the way I want to read them... perhaps it's late because you really are over me and I'm getting my hopes up with... whatever this is.

But I... I am not over you and I don't think I'll ever be. What I feel for you is way too strong for me to let go.

I'm sorry that my timing is terrible, but... I...

I want you, I want all of you, Gilbert"

He doesn't say a word, so she gives him a few seconds to process everything. After all she's been rambling for a while.

But he still doesn't say anything, just stays there, paralyzed and blinking every once in a while to assure her that he's still alive.

The look on his face, she can't read it because she's never seen it before. There's not even the hint of a smile hanging off his lips or a spark in his eyes — there's literally nothing there.

There was always this thing, about Gilbert. Sometimes he could be really expressive, and in moments like this, his gaze is just sunken, his eyebrows hiding his expression away from her. There's such a neutral look on his face that makes him look more serious than usual. He doesn't look sad, or angry, or lost. He doesn't look like anything at all, and even though Anne used to be able to read him,

she can't read him right now.

She just feels like slapping him or shaking his shoulders to make him come back.

She also feels the imperative need to kiss him, because, well, with him looking like that, who could blame her? But mostly, she wants to slap the words out of him, and scream:

"Seriously, Gilbert Blythe?! That's it? After my speech?"

But the only words that leave her lips are quiet, shy, and a bit choked:

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

And finally, he speaks.

"You're right" he says.

His voice is serene and determined. Anne both loves it and hates it when he talks like that. It makes him sound less like a boy and more like a man.

Anne knows that he's going to say next. She should've suspected it.

And just as she predicted, he adds:

"Your timing's terrible and you have no right to come here and tell me you want me"

Anne silently studies his face, not saying a word. His eyes look darker than they've ever have.

He's probably mad at her again — he's definitely mad again.

"Lucky for you, Shirley, I haven't stopped loving you once"

She doesn't see it coming — because she definitely wasn't expecting the way he takes a few rushed steps towards her, three or four, or how his hands cup her face and draws her mouth closer to his or how his lips, which tasted her mouth long ago, feel so familiar against her own.

He's kissing her.

He's kissing her and it has nothing to do with the slow-paced, calm and a bit hesitant way he leaned forward when they were slow dancing earlier.

Anne doesn't notice how she's suddenly walking backwards until she's completely backed into a brick wall that must be one of those garden's alcoves.

He pins her against the wall, and the atmosphere of it all reminds her to when they kissed that December evening. Gilbert props his right hand on the wall, right over her shoulder. He's barely inches away from her.

"Still?" she asks, out of breath.

"Still"

Still. That word is the confirmation she needs to let herself take control of the situation.

She grabs him by the solapes of his suit, bringing him closer because it's never close enough when it comes to Gilbert Blythe.

In those fantasies in which she had allowed herself to wonder about how his lips would feel and taste against her, she'd never imagined it would be this rough, and passionate.

It's almost a deja-vu like to their first kiss, only this time, there are no more people involved, no one else to care about but him.

"Does this mean-?" she manages to say between kisses.

He doesn't let her finish. In another moment, if would've annoyed the hell out of her, but if he's interrupting her words with a kiss, she can't complain.

"This means I'm yours"

"Oh. Okay"

He crashes his lips against hers one more time, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands gripping her waist tighter.

His hands move, cupping her face, brushing a few strands of red hair away from her face and breaking the kiss just to ask her:

"Are you mine, Shirley?"

They lock eyes. His, taking in every single detail of her face, freckle by freckle. Hers, switching between his hazel eyes and his pink lips.

She doesn't reply again, too lost on the fact that he's real — he's right there. So she kisses him again, this time more confident, pulling him closer.

Gilbert lets out a choked groan as soon as her lips are on his again. He isn't scared at her loss of words. On the contrary, he takes that as a good sign. Ever since the moment he first laid eyes on her, he'd been waiting to leave her speechless. And now it has finally happened, he's causing this on her and he loves it.

For a moment, words are left aside and the only noise that surround them is the sound of their breathing and their own lips against each other's.

"I never stopped thinking about you, you know" Gilbert says. "Even when I was mad at you, you never left my mind" Kiss. "You were always there" Kiss. "In a song, a book, a poem, a cup of coffee, falling snow, a song" Kiss. "even a pair of shoes... you were everywhere"

"I never stopped thinking about you either"

"Fine"

"Fine"

One of his hands remains there, palm pressed against her cheek, whilst the other travel downs to rest on her waist, curving around it and pressing her body closer to his.

Anne realizes then, that this is not a kiss.

This is ten kisses, perhaps twenty or fifty kisses contained in one.

This is not a kiss.

It's a collection of kisses that they never shared.

This kiss is their first real talk after Billy Andrews' party.

This kiss is the taste of Prairie Fire shots at a karaoke bar.

This kiss is their backs against a row of lockers at school, sharing headphones.

This kiss is a snowball fight, a late night next.

This kiss is the mixtape he made for her 18th birthday and the one he gave her as a graduation present.

This kiss is The Great Gatsby.

This kiss is her body accidentally on top of his, lying on her bed.

This kiss is a drunken confession, their laughter in an elevator, a late night drive.

This kiss is a cup of coffee, cappuccino for him, latte with oat milk and cinnamon sprinkles for her.

This kiss is jealousy in denial.

This kiss is a slow dance in the darkness of a club.

This kiss is a poem.

This kiss is a "Come with me to prom, you're my best friend"

This kiss is an "I'm so glad I met you"

This kiss is everything.

"That speech was simply amazing. You could've warned me, you know, and I could've brought an audio recorder or something like that. I'd play it over and over again, every day" he says between kisses. "And those letters... those letters, and the mixtape- fuck"

She laughs as he keeps kissing her, teeth colliding.

"You're a fool"

"I am indeed" he whispers, going for her neck, one of his hands traveling up her body to rest against the other side of her neck, his thumb against her pulse point making her throw her head back.

"Goodness, Shirley, it's a fucking wedding and you're still wearing that strange cinnamon perfume you wore in highschool? You're a weirdo" he hums, his lips sending shivers down her spine, stroking her skin as he speaks. "Not classy at all"

"As if sucking on my neck was any classier, you asshole" she huffs, completely out of breath.

He stops right there, resting his forehead against hers. Chest against chest, breath against breath, they realize that space stopped being a concept a while ago.

They couldn't be any closer.

"Hm" he says, are fixed on hers in the dark of the night. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No"

"Fine"

"Fine"

Her eyes invite him to go on, and he closes the brief distance between them again, this time going for her lips again, both closing their eyes at the sensation.

Their lips move in some sort of dance, their bodies, synchronized. Both of his hands grip her waist whilst hers focus on the nape of his neck, twirling her fingers between his curls.

The wind starts blowing, way too hard for the month of July, and right before they can notice, rain is falling down, or so she notices when she can taste water drops on his lips.

"Ow! It's raining!" she screams, looking up to see raindrops falling down.

They both silently wonder what the odds of a rainfall in July are. But again, they also wonder what the odds of being right there, in each other's arms, could be.

"I don't care about the rain right now" he says, wet curls sticking to his forehead. "Do you?"

She looks back at him, his mouth gracing the tip of her nose under the moonlight.

"I don't give a fuck about the rain" she says, grasping the soaked curls at the back of his neck.

"Fuck it Shirley, you're so damn hot when you swear" he says, boyish smile.

She snorts a laugh.

"Shut up, Gilbert"

"Yes, ma'am"

He leans forward, kissing her and wondering how the mixture of beer and red lipstick could taste so good.

"Can I say one more thing? Then I'll shut up" he says, making her immediately miss the contact of his mouth.

"Go on"

He separates a bit from her, still holding her, to take a good look of her, up and down, down and up, repeating this pattern at least three times.

"You look fucking good in that red dress, Shirley" he whispers. "I really mean it"

"Well" she tilts her head a bit, biting her lip for a brief second, as if she was considering if she should actually say what's she's thinking. "To quote the great Ruby Gillis's favourite artist... I only bought this dress so you could take it off"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused at this emboldened version of Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.

"Is that so?"

"Yup" she says, popping the "p".

"Then I guess I'll have to do something about it" he murmurs, eyes fixed on his lips as he moves one of his hands to play with the right strap of her red dress.

"Do it"

Very quietly, almost silently, he laughs. His finger grazing at the wet skin of her shoulder and teasing her as he keeps playing with the thin strap of her dress.

Entranced, she doesn't notice how it's stopped raining. She just watches him, although his eyes are fixed on his skin. He pulls the strap down her shoulder and decides to rest one of his hands there, his fingers caressing the bare skin as he dived in for another kiss.

"Gilbert, Gilbert, stop"

He pulls away, his mouth no longer attached to her neck. Out of breath, he stops his motions on her shoulder and although he leaves his hand there, the other one moves to rest on her cheek.

"What-what is it?"

His lips are swollen, eyes dark. Anne believes that right now, this is the most handsome he's ever been. She wishes she could capture the sight of him right now with just the blink of an eye and keep it in her memory forever.

"I think there's someone coming" she whispers. "I can hear footsteps"

Gilbert separates from her completely, letting her leaning her body against the brick wall as he takes a look around.

"Crap, fuck" he says, a bit nervous. "It's Ruby!"

"Ruby?" Anne frowns, pulling the strap of her dress back and walking over to him to look at the same direction.

Yes, that hurried, short steps and pink dress is Ruby Gillis.

"Do you think that's going to stop her from being extremely inconvenient?"

"God, I'm going to kill her"

"Yeah, well, I'll help you bury the bod-"

"Guys! Here you are!"

Ruby looks at Anne first. Her hair is completely messed up, soaked by the recent rainfall. Her make up a bit ruined.

Then about Gilbert, his curls are a mess and his white shirt is almost see-through because of the rain.

"GUESS WHO ARE BEST FRIENDS AGAIN" Anne says out of the sudden, worried that Ruby might join the obvious clues and realize that they've been doing for the past half an hour.

"We made out!" Gilbert says. "I mean- up! We made up!"

Wide eyed, Anne looks at him, completely horrified and mortified.

"What... are you doing here? It's... raining" Ruby mutters suspiciously.

"We needed to talk privately" he says.

"We just fixed things completely!" Anne takes Gilbert's hand and holds it in the air as a sign of victory. "Yay! Besties!"

"Okay...? You have to come back inside, Diana wants to take a group photo and she's hysterical"

Gilbert awkwardly clears his throat. "Of course"

Ruby and Anne start making their way back inside as Gilbert follows right beside, enjoying the sight of the lady in red.

"Look at your hair, Anne!" Ruby complains, trying to fix it desperately as they walk. "It's messy, the rain ruined it!"

"Oh, yeah — the rain"

"Fucking rain, right?" Gilbert's voice says, perhaps with a bit or sarcasm.

Anne turns around, giving him a look that tells him to shut up.

He hurried his steps, walking past her and grazing her shoulder intentionally. When he's sure that Ruby's not looking, he gives her the wink of an eye.

___

2:57 a.m.

Gilbert Blythe lies awake in bed, recalling the events of just a few hours ago.

24 hours away he was in England and now he's in Charlottetown, in one of Josephine Barry's many guest rooms.

He's kissed Anne. Anne's kisses him. And it didn't end up in a bad way as it happened the first time they kissed.

They've kissed and even thought they haven't had the time to talk things over when the wedding was over, he can't seem to brush the foolish smile off his face.

As soon as they got back inside, they acted as if everything was normal. They hung out with their friends, joked around and drank a bit more, but that's it.

He's alone, completely alone in an unfamiliar room, thinking about freckles and blue eyes when someone knocks on his door.

He gets out of bed in his pajamas, a black T-shirt and a pair of grey shorts that he brought along when Fred told him the guests were staying after the wedding.

He opens the door to reveal a redhead with a ridiculously short night... gown? No, it's not a night gown. It's her breakfast club pajamas, reaching mid-thigh, exactly as he remembered.

"Shirley? What are you doing here?"

Her face is make-up clear and her hair is down. She smells like strawberries so he figures she must've washed her hair after the rain incident.

"Can't sleep knowing you're awake in a different room" she whispers.

"How did you know I was awake?"

"Just guessing"

"I could've been sleeping"

"Okay, but were you?"

"No, I wasn't"

Gilbert takes a look out the hallway.

There's no one, just a redhead standing under the door frame.

"Well?" she says.

"What if they-"

"Hush" she says, her index finger brushing his lips. "I made sure no one saw me"

"Okay"

Anne gets inside as soon as he moves aside. She silently closes the door behind her, resting her back against the wooden door, making eye contact with him under the dim light of the room.

"Hi" she whispers.

"Hi"

"Can I stay here? For a while?"

"What- What kind of question is that? Of course you can"

He blinks twice, perplexed. Every single piece of confidence he had just hours ago when they were kissing under the rain is gone now.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Blink. Another blink. He tries to choose his words carefully because he wasn't expecting her to show up at his room.

"Yes, I want you to stay" he mumbles, mouth dry as his gaze gets lost in her cascade of red hair.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah..."

"Good..." she says. "Because I want to finish what we started earlier"

Her arms, that were resting against the door, suddenly move to wrap around his neck. He doesn't even realize he's been holding his breath until she crashed her lips against his.

She pulls him closer and he realizes his arms are doing nothing. Do something, do something, he mentally tells himself as Anne kisses him.

Gilbert places both of his hands on her hips, grazing the soft fabric of her old pajamas. She hums, satisfied at his motions. He tilts his head, getting a better angle of every different kiss.

He moves his thigh in between the gap of her for her to rests her whole weight on. This seems to trigger something on her, because she stops kissing him.

She looks at him, a look on her face he's never seen before.

So before he can process it, she's grabbed him by the arm and thrown him to the bed, lying on top of him as she places little kisses from his earlobe down to his neck, caressing his hair with her left hand.

"Shirley..."

No answer.

"Hey, Anne, stop"

"Did I...? Sorry" Her face is even redder than her hair when she sits in bed, cross-legged and not looking at him because of the embarrassment. "Oh, my God, this is so embarrassing. It's the T-shirt? Isn't it? Is it too much?"

"What? No, no. It's not like that" he shakes his head, looking at her softly. "Look, I love that pajamas and... this. But it's not the right place or time with... Josephine Barry sleeping next door, okay?"

She snorts a laugh.

"You're right, sorry"

"Come here"

He grabs her arms and makes her lie down with him. Suddenly he's spooning her (Gilbert Blythe, spooning her!), his chin nose nuzzled between her neck and her shoulder.

"Besides, Shirley" he whispers in her ear. "What I want to do to you requires perfect intimacy"

She thanks god the lights are off because she's blushing furiously. Things like these reminds her why he's such an asshole. But she loves it — although she'll never tell him.

"Oh, my god, shut up, just shut the fuck up"

His only response is to giggle, pressing her closer to his body.

"You haven't changed a single bit, Gilbert Blythe"

She turns to face him, her nose brushing his.

"But that's a good thing, right?"

"I'm not so sure"

"Well, you haven't changed a single bit either" he says, scrunching his nose. "Still that fiery temper and all the cursing"

"Shut up or I'll whack you with a book again"

"If we're going to end up in that horizontal position again, I'm all in"

"Shut up! God! I can't stand you when you're all cocky"

He bites his lip, trying to hide an evident smile.

"Stop acting like you don't secretly love it"

She turns her back to him again and he has to laugh. He can't see her with the lights off and her back turned to him, but he knows she's blushing.

"You know, someone wrote something for me in that Love Board" he whispers, playing with her hair.

"Oh, really?" she says, trying to sound unbothered.

"Yeah, I wonder who that might be"

"Someone wrote something for me too"

With a smooth, quick move, he makes her turn around.

"Do you have a clue about who wrote it for you?"

"Mmh, I wonder"

He gives her a crooked smile before kissing her the tip of her nose.

"Did that give you a clue?"

"Mm... no, not really?"

"How about this?" he whispers, kissing her jaw now.

"Nope"

Rising his eyebrow and knowing she's enjoying this game as much as he is, he kisses her neck.

"Now?"

"Almost there"

He gives it two or three second before kissing her lips. It's not as passionate as all those uncountable kisses they shared before, but this one slow, quiet, long.

"Yeah, I think I might have a clue"

"Tell me, Shirley"

"I'm sure it was Diana's great uncle! Mr. Nicholas Barry!"

"You're an ass"

"My ass is nice"

"Eh, that's my quote!"

"There you go, Gilbert Blythe — a taste of your own medicine"

"You're a case, Anne Cordelia Shirley-Cuthbert"

"Says you!"

"Oh. My. God" he gasps. "Stop copying my quotes or..."

"Or what?" she says. If he can be cocky and teasing, so can she! "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll have to kiss you to death"

"Fine"

"Seriously, it's a kiss attack. You should think about it twice"

Anne pretends to consider it for a second before saying, with a blinding smile:

"My ass is nice"

"You asked for it, Shirley"

___

4:16 a.m.

Gilbert fell asleep about an hour ago, yet Anne can't stop tossing and turning.

When the conversation and the kissing slowly faded away, Gilbert started snoring quietly. He must've been excited from the flight and all, and this is really the only moment of piece he's had in more than 24 hours.

So Anne just pulled the sheets over and tried to get some sleep too.

It is perhaps, her constant tossing and turning what wakes him up.

"Shirley..." he says with a raspy voice. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep"

"It's fine. What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can sleep, Gilbert"

"Are you okay?" he says, moving closer to her to kiss her cheek.

She stirs because of the intimacy — none of their recently shared kisses have been this... comfortable and familiar.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking"

"You don't ever stop thinking, do you? That mind's always working"

"So many things have happened tonight. I mean, yersterday we weren't talking to each other and now we're here... like this"

"Are you... uncomfortable? Is the cuddling too much? I can take the floor-"

"Fucking hell, you're such an idiot"

"Why-"

"I don't want you to take the floor. And I love that we're... cuddling. It's new but it feels right somehow"

"Yeah, I know what you mean"

"Fuck, Gilbert"

"What is it?"

"I can't believe we've kissed"

"Oh, me neither — trust me"

And with that and a smile, he pulls her closer and she manages to sleep for at least three hours. However, as he just said, her mind's always working.

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

It's a few minutes past eight in the morning when Anne wakes up again. This time, she doesn't wake him up. She frees herself off his tight embrace, quietly, not wanting to wake him up when he looks so peaceful.

She gets out of bed, kissing his cheek softly before sneaking out of his room.

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

___

Josephine Barry has prepared some sort of breakfast party for the guests who stayed the night.

Gilbert woke up later than the rest of his friends, so when he gets to the big, royal, elegant dining room, he is greeted by none other than Charlie Sloane.

"So, you and Anne, huh?" is the first thing he hears that morning.

Crap.

"What, no? Me and Anne? Nope, never. Absolutely not"

"I saw her coming out of your room this morning"

Gilbert looks at him. This is Anne's ex boyfriend. This is weird, extremely weird. Awkward. Terrible. Dreadful. Although they broke up long ago, he can't help but feel guilty.

"Oh, you-you did?"

"Yes"

"Well, there's nothing there" he says, hoping it doesn't come out as the lie it is.

Because there is something, right?

"Really? I would love it if there was something there"

"Dude... she's your ex"

"So? She's also a good friend. I want what's best for her"

"And you think I'm the best for her?"

"Yes" Charlie says. "You're like the male version of Anne. Just as stubborn"

"Thanks?"

"Look, Gilbert. I obviously didn't like the idea of Anne breaking up with me last year. But I'm over her, you like her, she likes you... so... dude"

"Dude, what?"

Charlie suddenly regrets saying this guy is the male version of Anne. He's much slower, and  bit more oblivious.

"Ask her out. Properly"

"So... you're not gonna punch me?"

"As unbelievable as it may sound, I like you. You're pretty cool"

"You're pretty cool too, man"

Charlie excuses himself as he seats with some school friends in one of the many tables from the dining room.

When Gilbert's eyes find a table with his favorite people on Earth, he walks over to them, a blinding smile on his face.

"Good moooorning, everyone!" Gilbert says. Anyone who knows him would say he looks unnaturally happy, because he's literally glowing. "How's my favorite people in the whole universe doing?"

"Looks like someone woke up in a great mood" Fred says, mouth full of pancakes.

"Oh, yeah" Gilbert smiles as he briefly glanced at Anne.

As he makes his way to his seat, he ruffles Fred's hair, kisses Diana's cheek, then Ruby's cheek, then he gets to Anne...

his Anne,

and he pats her back.

Twice.

Anne's eyes widen at this... friendly touch and all his friends share confused looks. It's not like she was expecting a kiss in front of all their friends, but at least he could've... kissed... her cheek?

Gilbert lets out an awkward cough as he takes his seat, right in front of Anne and in between Jerry and Diana.

"So..." Jerry says after a sip of orange juice. "Just to be clear, you two are friends again?"

Anne almost chokes on her coffee.

"Yes" she says without taking her eyes off her scrambled eggs.

"What happened?" asks Diana. "How did you two fix everything?"

"Just friendly conversation. Like two mature adults" Anne says — she's clearly tense, but Gilbert's the only one who notices.

"Oh, yeah. Lots of talking" Gilbert says, biting on his toast.

"We couldn't even stop" she says. "Talking, I mean! We couldn't even stop talking"

"That's good" Fred says, oblivious to what actually happened.

"Fantastic" Anne and Gilbert both say at once, making their friends laugh.

Seems like we're back to usual.

___

A/N

Don't say I never give you anything ;)

Thoughts?

Theories about what's happening in the next chapter?

Love,

blythexcarrots