₁.₀ SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

029.

"Isn't it the point in life to seek what excites you? I mean, what happens? Does one smile to death?"

It's more than obvious from Anne's tone that she's still more than sour about Marilla's decision not to let the girls attend Josephine Barry's party. Marianne (having been invited alongside her brother) certainly wasn't as excited about attending the event as the red haired girl, but she has to admit - it's not like she doesn't feel any disappointment, because there was a part of her curious of what might have been.

Although she's got more pressing matters to attend to. In her lap there is a copy of Giorgio Vasari's 'The lives of the artists', the cover already presenting itself as worn out, even though she's only got it this Christmas. The moment she unwrapped the paper from Gilbert's gift, Marianne was surprised. She's heard of this book before, and yet never got a chance to read it. She never mentioned it to the Blythe boy either, but he somehow knew how to make just the right pick for her (the proof of this being in the fact that Marianne hasn't opened another book ever since that evening).

However, what really got her attention wasn't even the little heartwarming, personal note on the first page. Instead, it was an addition made on the list of contents, where, under the of the printed names, was put her own, written in Gilbert's neat handwriting. Marianne Belware, my most admired artist.

"My parents and I have never even been invited before! But God forbid father had gone out with the world's tiniest sniffle."

"It's absurd that ladies aren't allowed to travel without a male companion!"

"Agreed. And did I mention Aunt Josephine is having a world-renowned pianist perform?"

"What?!"

"A world-"

Diana's response is cut short as Cole stands up suddenly, a groan full of frustration and anger leaving his lips. Before the girls get the chance to forsee his doings, he tosses his sketchbook into the fire.

And Marianne is just sitting there like a simpleton, as a great deal of simultaneous screaming occurs.

"Cole, why would you do such a thing?"

"It should have been better now," says the boy, his voice breaking a little.

"It will be. You just need time-"

"I got my splint off, weeks ago, Anne. It's just not the same. I can't draw anymore!"

And then, amongst more more shouting, Cole rushes outside, not wanting for the girls to catch up.

"I'm sure there must be a solution," the words escape Marianne's mouth before she has the chance to talk herself out of it. There's just something about Cole's situation that makes her feel especially upset, because she knows how much the ability to draw and paint means to her. She may not be an artist as profitic as he is, yet still she cannot imagine losing it. "You can't just walk away from your art-"

"I don't want to talk about it. Especially with you, Marianne. Because you have every opportunity to create work, you have both capable hands and money, and yet, ever so often, I see you not appreciating it enough."

Anne's the first one to react. "Cole!"

"Oh, I..."

Marianne knows that's his emotions speaking, but it still hurts a little. She doesn't need to be reminded of the fact that she doesn't spend every second of her time indulging in what she calls her hobby.

"I'm sorry, I just- I didn't mean to say all of that, Mariane, I don't even believe it. Just... leave me be now, please."

"That's alright." Marianne clutches the book tighter, pressing it into her ches. It's not alright, but who is she to judge Cole depending on a moment of weakness rather than all the time she's known him? "I'm just going to keep quiet now."