▷ Asleep - The Smiths

«Sing me to sleep, I don't wanna be alone»

___

[DON'T PLAY THE SONG YET]

April 10th

MOODY SPURGEON is freaking out. He should've known that inviting the guys over a Saturday night would bring nothing but trouble. Billy accidentally broke the toilet's cistern and poor Moody's sure his mom is going to kill him as soon as she comes back from her weekend trip to Charlottetown.

Three figures are standing in the hall. Moody, completely paranoid and hysterical; Billy, worried but trying to look unbothered. The third figure, Fred Wright, is trying not to laugh.

"Fred!" Moody hisses. "If hear one of your snickers one more time I swear to god I'll kill you!"

"Fine" Fred shrugs. "Then you'll have one more thing to clean — my corpse"

"Daaaaamn!" Billy raises his hand for a high five for Fred.

Here's the situation: Gilbert Blythe is drunk. Very drunk. Yup, the night's definitely gone out of control. Gilbert knows the effects of alcohol. Of course he does! He's a doctor — almost. But Billy brought too many beer cans and... well, this happened.

"Well, what should we do? We can't call his dad" Moody asks. He's in the depths of despair, completely. "And Jerry's not answering his phone"

"He needs to throw up or something like that" Billy says, running a hand through his blond hair. "I read that somewhere"

"I say we call Anne" Fred suggests. "She'll know how to handle this"

"Anne, why Anne?" Moody Spurgeon might be the only person in class, maybe in Avonlea, that hasn't noticed a single thing going on between Gilbert and Anne.

"Just call her" Fred tells the blond boy. With that, Billy takes his phone out of his pocket and looks for a phone number in his contact list.

___

"Where is he?"

Anne had managed to fall asleep when an incoming phone call awoke her. It was Billy Andrews, saying there was something hers to pick up at Moody's. "Cut the crap, Andrews, tell me what's going on" she told him with the sleepiest of voices. When Billy told her Gilbert needed her help, she got out of bed and put some leggings and a hoodie as quickly as she could, hoping she didn't wake Marilla up.

After a twenty minute walk under the moonlight, she gets to Moody's. The three boys just point to the living room, scared of Anne's reaction. "How bad is it?"

"I don't think he's even aware of the situation. I think he's half asleep" Fred explains, choosing his words carefully. Billy snickers at Fred's comment and Anne slaps the back of his head right before walking into the living room.

"Gilbert?"

There he is. He's sitting on the sofa, a thick blanket wrapped around his body and his eyes closed. She kneels down on the floor, right in front of him.

"Gil, it's me" Anne whispers. She caresses his face softly, moving a few curls away from his sweaty forehead.

"Shirley"

It's a barely audible mumble, but she hears it. His eyes are still closed. It doesn't look good.

"You're drunk, doctor"

"You're doctor, drunk" he jokes as he giggles quietly from the sofa. Anne bites her lip, trying not to laugh, but she does anyway. She loves his sense of humor.

"Your sense of humor sucks" she laughs as she unwraps him from the blanket. "Let me take you home"

"Ooooh, I think I'd rather take things slowly" he hums, opening his eyes to bat them in a flirtatious way. She gulps at his comment. What is he talking about now? "Do you... want to take me home... to do WHAT EXACTLY?!" he fakes a scandalized tone when he says his "what", drawing his hand to his chest as a dramatic gesture.

She shakes her head before helping him up from the sofa. He stumbles over his own feet. "Give me your car keys" she demands.

"Tryyyyy... and find them" pointing to his jeans before spinning around in some sort of weird dance that makes Anne face-palm.

"You're an ass, Blythe" she grabs him by the back of his shoulders and as she starts to walk, pushing him out of the living room.

"My ass is nice" he turns his head to look at Anne, whose hands are still on his shoulders. He looks into her eyes, hers locking with his for a few seconds.

"Keep moving" she says after snapping out of the enchantment Gilbert's eyes have put her through.

"How did you manage to even make him stand up?" Billy asks. "We tried for more than fifteen minutes!"

"It's the tiger-Anne magic" It's the last thing Anne can hear before leaving Moody's house. By the tone in Fred's voice, she can bet he winked at them.

___

"So, how's Charlie" he asks once they're inside the car and Anne's started the engine. His head is leaning against the window while Anne drives.

"He's alright" she answers, not taking her eyes off the dark road ahead of them.

"He's so lucky, I mean, damn, look at his girl"

"What?"

"Charlie's girl is amazing"

She looks at him for a brief moment – he has his eyes closed and he is comfortably cuddled up in the passenger's seat. He's mumbling some non sense as he is slowly falling asleep with a wide grin on his face.

"What a dork" she whispers as she looks back to the road, listening to the sound of a Smiths album and the quiet snores and breathing from the boy in the passenger's seat.

It takes about fifteen minutes to get to Gilbert's house. She has never actually been there, but she remembers where they first met and it's also right in front of Tillie's. She parks in the driveway and squeezes the boy's arm after unfastening her seatbelt.

"Gilbert, wake up"

He opens one eye and then closes it again. "G'night, Shirley" he says with a raspy voice that makes her legs go weak — although she doesn't want to admit that to herself.

"Gilbert Blythe!" She keeps squeezing his with arm, only with a stronger grip now. "Off to bed, right now!"

"Woah, stop right there!" He says between giggles. "I think I should take you on a date first"

Anne closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and mentally stopping herself from slapping him. She gets out of the car and opens the door on Gilbert's side. "Okay, Gil" she says. "I think I'll have to drag you to your room then"

She wonders what's so funny about her words, because Gilbert smiles foolishly until they're inside.

___

Minutes later they're sitting on the tiles from the second floor's bathroom. Gilbert hasn't stopped giggling since they entered the house.

"Stop laughing!" she says, leaning her back on the wall.

"He he he"

"Gilbert" she leans forward, cupping his face with her hands to make him look at her. "You need to throw up, alright?"

The fact that she's touching his face in such a delicate way sobers him up a bit. He gets lost in her ocean blue gaze and a thousand songs that run through his mind could describe this moment.

For a split second, his eyes travel from her eyes to her lips. Then, they go back to her eyes. Her eyes. She's looking at him too.

"Gilbert" she whispers, caressing his cheek with a soft move of her thumb.

"Anne, there's something I need to te-"

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert will forever wonder what he wanted to tell her. But Gilbert doesn't finish his sentence because he starts throwing up.

___

After having thrown up, Gilbert seems to feel a bit better. She helps him get into his bed, tucking a blanket around his body. Anne walks to the door after mumbling a "Good night". Her hand is on the doorknob when he speaks.

"Don't go, Shirley, I don't want the nightmares to come again"

"Nightmares?" she walks back to him, sitting on his bed, closer to him.

"My mom"

"We don't need to talk about that now, Gil" she whispers. "You need to get some rest, okay?"

"I just miss my mom" his eyes are closed and his voice is trembling; Anne doesn't like the sound of his voice like that. She's never seen him so broken. It's the alcohol, she thinks. It must make him vulnerable.

"Shhh..."

"Tell me my dad is going to be okay"

"Your dad is going to be okay"

"You promise?"

"I promise"

Her words don't seem to convince him, because he covers his face with both of his hands, looking desperate.

"Gil" She caresses his cheek softly after taking his hands off his face. "You need to relax, okay?"

"I can't — I don't know how"

"Do you have any kind of ritual before going to bed?" she asks in a soft whispers as she plays with his hair.

"What-what do you mean?"

"Like listening to a certain song or talking to a specific someone before falling sleep?" That always helps, right? That's what he said, anyway. He recorded that song for her to help her fall asleep.

"What if... you are my specific someone?"

Anne looks at him, taken aback by his sincerity. His eyes are fixed on her, and the look on his face is... different. His face looks so soft, nothing to do with the teasing and boyish smiles he usually wears. He's looking at her with desperate eyes and she knows she has to stay — he needs her.

Anne blinks twice, thinking of an answer.

"Then I guess you only need the song"

"Yes, there's a song I always listen to" he says after clearing his throat. "Would you grab my Walkman?"

Anne walks up to his desk, taking his Walkman with her — what she does next is what takes the boy by absolute surprise. She lies down next to him, although there's a safe distance between them.

"It's track #4"

[PLAY THE SONG NOW!]

She puts the song he tells her and she smiles instantly. Of course. She should've known. Her mind goes back to the first time he drove her home — the night they became friends.

"You like The Smiths?"

"I just said I loved them"

"Favorite song by them?"

"Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me, obviously"

"Ah, good one. Mine's Asleep"

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I
I want to go to bed

She takes a look at him, tilting her head. His eyes are closed, and he seems to be relaxing since his body is not as tense as it was just minutes earlier. As an ironic contrast, her heart is beating wildly. Thinking he's falling asleep, she focus her eyes on the ceiling, placing her hands over her stomach — that's when he speaks.

"Shirley?"

His eyes are still closed; his breathing steady. He's in a state of such tranquility and peace that makes her jealous.

"Yes?"

"I remember when I met you — it was so clear for me that you and I were going to understand each other on a different level. That's why I was so persistent on being your friend. Because I guess I knew I needed you. I know you thought that I was just a flirt, I mean, I am. But not when it comes to you. I wanted you to know that. I'm so lucky to have you. There's no one like you, Shirley..."

Anne listens quietly.

"Thank you for everything" he whispers. The song's about to finish when he lies on his side to take a better look at her. Her eyes are still fixed on the ceiling. He looks at her with admiration, and that's when he knows.

With the redhead as the last thing he sees that night, his eyes fall heavily as he drifts into sleep. He realizes then that she's not just a crush. He's absolutely smitten. Whipped. Completely in deep. Gilbert Blythe knows that he's in love with this girl and there's no way back to a time in which he wasn't.

___

After fifteen minutes of rushed and wild thoughts that Anne fears to even think, she leaves his bed. She knows that there's a mattress under his bed, the one Fred used when he slept there that one night.

The girl prepares her bed for the night and lies down on her side, her body turned to face Gilbert's bed. She can see his silhouette under the sheets and sense his breathing. He seems okay. She allows herself to sleep, although it takes her a long time to do so. The thought of the boy sleeping next to her is giving her brain a lot of work.

Gilbert. Gilbert. Gilbert.

___

Anne thanks her own body for waking up early. She didn't want to set an alarm in case it woke Gilbert up. Gilbert!

She stands up, fixing her hair as she leans closer to the bed. There he is. Inevitably, a smile creeps up her face as she admires the sight of him. Gilbert Blythe is curled up in his own bed after having made a mess of sheets and blankets during his. His dark curls fall over the whiteness of the pillow and over his forehead; lips parted, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks and a genuine angelical and peaceful expression on his face.

Anne grabs a piece of paper from his desk and writes a note for him before taking a last look at him and leaving his room. She quietly walks down the stairs, trying not to make any noise. It's 9 a.m., so hopefully, there's no one up.

"Good morning?"

Crap.

At the foot of the stairs, she finds two men standing on the hall, right in front of the door. One of them, the one with a beard, is wearing a nurse uniform, the other one just his pajamas. "Oh, um, good morning" she says awkwardly. "I'm Anne, um, Gilbert's friend"

"Good morning, Anne, Gilbert's friend" says the man with a beard. The other one, who she assumes must be Gilbert's dad, laughs at the other man's remark.

"Want to stay for breakfast?" Mr. Blythe says. His face turns into a mocking grin. "Gilbert's never brought a girl home, I think we should celebrate, right Bash?"

"Absolutely!" The nurse says. Anne, completely horrified by their words, stares at them before thinking of an answer.

"Oh, um, I shouldn't. I need to get home"

___

Two hours after the encounter of a certain redhead with his father and Bash, Gilbert Blythe opens his eyes with a frown. "What... the fuck?" he mumbles with the sleepiest and raspiest of voices. The light coming through the window makes him close his eyes again, covering his face with a pillow. "Why... is it so... bright?" as he talks to himself — a habit he used to hate until he met Anne — he feels how dry is mouth is. Gilbert has never had such a heavy hangover in all his life.

As he removes the pillow from his face and turns to his side, he spots a mattress on the floor with a neatly folded blanket on top.

Then he remembers.

Anne. Anne. Anne was here.

He stands up as fast as a lightning. Anne, Anne, Anne. Wrong choice. The dizziness of hangover makes him stumble over his feet, thankfully falling down on the mattress on the floor, burying his face on the pillow Anne used. "Crap" he hisses. "No more alcohol"

It smells like her, he thinks as he breathes in the scent of the pillow. It smells like cinnamon.

As soon as he realizes the kind of thoughts he's having about the redhead, he stands up, finding a folded note on his night table.

I needed to get home.
Text me as soon as you wake up, okay?

Shirley

His head is pounding. Shit. He takes his phone, which is in the night table too. Anne must've put all his personal stuff there, because he's usually a mess. His phone, car keys and wallet are perfectly tidied in the table.

Gilbert
hey

AnnE
FINALLY
how are you feeling???

Gilbert
yeah I'm fine

AnnE
we have to meet today to continue with our essay

Gilbert
yup

AnnE
do you remember anything from last night?

Gilbert
not a single thing
but thank you for taking care of me

AnnE
anytime

Liar, he thinks as he sits on his bed. I do remember. I remember realizing I'm falling in love with you. And it sucks.

___

Later that afternoon, Anne and Gilbert meet to continue their work. The boy proposes to go to a coffee shop hidden in some unvisited alley downtown. Just as Anne, after lecturing Gilbert about the dangers of alcohol, walks in, she knows this is the kind of place she has to instantly love.

"I love this place!" she says, admiring the old book shelves that cover the walls and the plants hanging around.

"I knew you would, it's just your vibe" he chuckles as he looks for a table. He spots one in the corner with two seats.

"Cappuccino for me and a latte with oat milk and cinnamon sprinkles on top for the lady over there, please" he says when the waitress comes to the table. In front of him, Anne stares at him.

"How did you know...?"

"Please, you babble about how you like your coffee all the time" he says as he gets his books out of his backpack. "Now, let's get to work"

The girl gets her copy of The Great Gatsby and starts reading some selected passages as she enjoys her favorite coffee. The hazel pair of eyes sitting in front of her, who should be doing the same thing as she is, stare at her.

I like it when she bites the inside of her cheeks. That means she's concentrated. Gilbert sips his own coffee, yet he's unable to take his eyes away from her. She's wearing a black turtleneck and a grey skirt — an outfit that she's definitely worn before. I love that skirt. Dark colors suit her, they make a beautiful contrast with her auburn h-

"Gilbert?"

Crap.

"Mm?"

"Start fucking reading, you lazy asshole" she chuckles with her nose still stuck in her book. "What got you thinking so hard?"

"Daisy — she intrigues me for some reason"

___

liked by jerryb, sloaneboi and 178 others
itscxrdelia teamwork, coffee and essays

tagged: drblythe

dibarry living for the aesthetic
jerryb nerds

___