₁.₀ SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

019.

Perhaps she is bitter, but how could a shepherd's pie - even the most scrumptious one - win the heart of a boy in grief, Marianne simply cannot imagine.

She's sitting by the window in the Barry's kitchen, watching as the three other girls prepare said meal, chatting and giggling; their moods without a single stain of the recent death in town. Marianne could probably offer to help, but four people working on one dish would be too much (especially for someone like her, for whom even two is a crowd). Besides, since Ruby wanted the pie to be 'the best that Gilbert has ever tasted', the Gillis girl dug out some fancy recipe, and assigned Marianne the task of making sure they're following the instructions exactly as it says; therefore the small sheet of paper in her hands, her eyes flickering over it from time to time.

"Being a good cook shouldn't be very high on the list of romantic attributes, if you ask me. If one was interested in romance, which I'm not."

Marianne glances at Anne, briefly, for a few seconds. She knows that the redhead girl didn't really mean - or didn't understand the meaning of - the things she's said after John Blythe's funeral. She knows that more than well, of course, she's sure of it. Still, even though they were directed to Gilbert, Marianne felt hurt herself, too. The mere assumption that she could be called happy because of grief... Is it even possible to compare one's sorrow to another's? To determine whether one's pain of loss is greater than another's?

Therefore, at the moment, Marianne has trouble looking in Anne's direction without hearing her words ringing in her ears, over and over again.

"I'd like to be noticed for me, not my dinner."

With that one of Anne's statements, however, Marianne agrees completely.

But Diana and Ruby erupt in chuckles. Shaking their heads, the two share those knowing looks, classifying Anne's words as one of her traits they have to deal with in daily basis, however strange and uncommon they may be.

"You're so funny."

"I wasn't meaning to be funny."

"Oh," Diana gasps in surprise. "So what's on the list?"

"My brain, Diana. My personality. As in, who I am," emphasizes the redhead girl, already invested enough not to notice indulgent expressions on her companions' faces. "I like to believe that's what truly matters. If romance matters at all, which it doesn't."

"Yes, it does!" squeals Ruby, and girlish laughter erupts once again. "Don't you think Gilbert looks even more handsome now that he's sad?"

"I didn't notice."

"He does. And what do you think, Marianne?"

To be honest, Marianne's already come to terms with the fact that, in her eyes, Gilbert Blythe is handsome in general, though she would still prefer to watch him in different circumstances than the boy being in grief. He could be the ugliest while happy, and Marianne would still prefer him that way, no signs of sadness in his eyes. But, of course, she can't say that out loud, especially in front of Ruby - and her ridiculous dibs - so instead she says, "I think you're cutting it into pieces too large to be described as..." here she glances onto the recipe, "well, small."

"Am I?" Ruby stares down at the cut vegetables in fright. "But it has to be perfect for Gilbert!"

"Ruby and Gilbert sitting in a tree... K-I-S-S-" Minnie May starts singing, only to be scolded by Diana. "I'm cooking," she defends herself.

"You're watching. I told you, the only way you get to be here with us is if you're quiet. Don't interrupt, or you'll have to sit with Great-Aunt Josephine."