₁.₀ SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

017.

Blowing wind hurls across an empty field, sweeping some of the snow into the air, and Marianne pulls her coat closer to her body. The morning is not exceptionally freezing, yet there are moments like this, when she can feel the cold even despite being tightly wrapped in all her warmest clothes.

She would certainly like the weather to be a little more welcoming, but it's not enough to make her regret leaving Green Gables. With Anne's recent attitude still in mind, Marianne's even glad she did so; she can understand the reasons behind the redhead girl's mood swings, but it doesn't make them any more pleasant, not easier to bear with. Even the perspective of having tea and some biscuits wasn't able to keep Marianne in the house, seeing as Anne took her yesterday's walk with Gilbert as a personal insult (and certainly let her know her opinion).

It came as a surprise that Marilla would allow her to leave Green Gables, but she's got a feeling that the Cuthbert siblings didn't want to be in Anne's company, too, seeing as both of them went out as well, respectively to visit Mrs. Lynde and due to some business in Carmody (and quite a mysterious business it must have been, for Matthew looked much startled when Marianne asked him of his plans).

Leaving some time ago, she's been walking for quite a while now; her sketchbook and charcoal pencils crashing against each other in the depths of her shoulder-bag. Marianne was hoping she could use the time to practice with some sketches of the snowy landscape, but she's already given up on that idea. Even if she managed to pull the accessories out, she wouldn't be able to draw anything at all, with her fingers becoming stiff from the cold.

It's a shame, she thinks. With the ground covered in several layers of white, impossible to separate from the sky up above... it's only because of the trees, Marianne notices, that she's able to tell them apart sometimes. Because of the buildings, too.

Looking up, she can see a house before her. She's wandered too far. Walking through the silent fields is one thing, and practically trespassing into someone's garden is another, so she turns round swiftly; seen is the last thing she would like to be now.

She only has a chance to make a few steps before someone calls her name and Marianne has no choice but to face them.

"Gilbert," she greets, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb-"

"Um, no, of course not. You're not disturbing, by any means."

Silence falls over the two of them and Marianne takes a moment to take a look at the boy. Gilbert is wearing no coat, only a knitted sweater - it seems warm, yet not enough to provide shelter from the wind - and a few lost snowflakes have already found their way onto the fabric. They adorn his dark curls as well, she notices, catching a glimpse at the house over his shoulder; and it doesn't take Marianne a lot of time to put the pieces together - the way Gilbert's dressed, the small gap between the door and the frame.

Yes, she is disturbing.

Not that he would tell her that, of course. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what brings you here?"

Marianne places her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket, once again trying to avoid his gaze. "I care for Anne deeply, however a small break is nice from time to time. I wanted to take a moment for myself and a walk seemed like a good idea." It's making her uncomfortable, the way he's looking at her, as though he's amused by just her presence.

"So, uh, you didn't come here on purpose, then?"

Surprised, Marianne allows herself to frown gently. "No, why?"

It's his turn to look to the ground for a few seconds. As close as he may look to being embarrassed, Gilbert runs his hand through his hair. "Well, I, um, I-I though that maybe now, that you know of my friendship with Edward..."