AHEAD BY A CENTURY - ANNE WITH AN E

13. His life, his world.

It was a Saturday, lighthearted and bright with sunlight which reconciled the prior austere, drab rainy days, the sloppy fields now viridian again, the untamed flowers: once drooping, heavy with rainwater now sprang to life, and Anne Shirley cuthbert had a terrible cold.
"Oh Marilla, I cannot just lay in bed on a day like this, the flowers finally regaining their strength as vivid as ever." Anne's voice appeared nasally due to her god forsaken cold.
"I'm afraid you'll have to." Marilla informed Anne. Marilla excused herself back downstairs to prepare breakfast.
~~~✿
Gilbert awoke late that morning having lay awake attempting to gather his thoughts, unsuccessfully he resolved to march down to green gables that morning and demand Anne tell him that she really, truly liked him- at least a little. Otherwise, it was not worth chasing someone who was running from you.
However, as it happened, Gilbert had a cold. His nose was the colour of no other than a robins red breast.
It was worth risking a cold though, Gilbert said to himself, replaying his kiss with Anne in his mind. The minute he recovered he was going to get answers from Anne but for now, it was time to rest; but again, Gilbert's mind couldn't find peace until he knew that Anne's feelings where mutual- or somewhat mutual to his.
Gilbert tried to fight his ongoing thoughts by distracting himself. The house, once bursting with chatter and joy from the large, loving Blythe family now lay still, the only sound was the light pattering of Gilbert's footsteps hitting the stairs as he made his way to the kitchen.
Gilbert, prior to his fathers passing, was as clueless to cooking as ever one was. However, he had to fend for himself for what seemed to be the rest of his lonely, miserable life. His only light of hope being Anne, illuminating his dark, tragic future, therefore, Gilbert had purchased some books and was now a somewhat decent cook.
He prepared himself a traditional meal for his oh so terrible cold, Hot soup and tea.
The soup, of the vegetable kind, steam escaping from it, taking in the cold, breezy, Avonlea morning air. The tea, brewing beside a slim slice of vibrant, yellow, lemon; sweet honey swimming around it, gradually dissolving in the steamy liquid. Gilbert set both the tea and soup on a tray and as carefully as possible, carried them to the living room and placed them on a wooden table.
He spent most of his morning sitting on one of the armchairs that contributed to the Blythe's family living room, however, Gilbert could not bring himself to look at his fathers chair, the one where he had sat at every given opportunity. Gilbert read a book,-their book, the one he and Anne had read that sunny day on the tree: Wuthering heights.
~~~✿
The lengthy day flew past Anne's window as she lay in bed, the inviting window her only company, besides Marilla who occasionally appeared with a bowl of asparagus soup alongside a slice of freshly baked, slightly warm bread.
"Thank you Marilla." Anne's voice was slightly adenoidal as result of her cold. "I think you're recovering nicely." Marilla said, removing Anne's previous tray from her bedside, breadcrumbs scattered across it.
"Marilla.. I must go outside today, I need to visit a friend it's a matter of most urgency." Anne begged for the umpteenth time that day,
"No, Anne. And that is final." Marilla closed Anne's door coldly and resumed her sewing, she had not informed Anne- but she planned to create a new dress for her, seeing as she was poorly and had experienced an unforeseen growth spurt.
~~~✿
I have to see Gilbert. Muttered Anne.
I have to see Anne. Spoke Gilbert.
~~~✿
Anne, although truly poorly- had exaggerated her condition knowing that Marilla would not return for Anne's next meal for 2 and a half hours. Anne seized her moment wisely and slid the window open, carefully reaching over to one of the lanky branches of the blossomed tree beside her beloved windowsill, using her energetic arm to pull her body weight onto the tree. She clambered down cautiously, watching her feet as they stepped onto the stretching branches below. She she jumped, missing the remaining 2 branches and clumsily rolled onto the grass, Anne broke into the fastest run she had ever broke into, she had endured her confrontation to Gilbert all day, and it was a lengthy day indeed. Now there was only a small field between them,
~~~✿
Gilbert ran for his life, Anne. His world, Anne. The capturer of his heart, Anne. He spotted a flame-haired figure across the floral field and his eyes lost all sense of surroundings besides her, only she mattered to him.
They collided, rolling onto the grass, their hands somehow caught onto each other's hand, the two laughed. The kind of laughter that released suppressed emotions into the breezy air around them,
After their laughter was a silence,
"I need to talk to you." Anne rambled,
"I need to talk to you." Gilbert spoke at the exact fraction of a second as Anne.

Note from the author
This chapter is badddd but I know you all wanted another chapter so here it is. I was thinking of doing a filler chapter next about Anne's dress after I've addressed Anne and Gilbert's relationship or lack of it. Any other ships to be added (please comment some) ily 💕