(TW: Mild themes of depression, I'm sorry)
He didn't feel like going anywhere. He dragged his feet out of bed, he didn't even remember eating or getting dressed or even walking to school.
She didn't mean any of it. Not a word. She couldn't sleep all that night, dreading when the sun would come up.
He forced a smile onto his face before approaching the front door yet there was no emotion behind his eyes.
It was for the best she repeated mentally, over and over again, trying to convince herself what she did was right. Her own personal mantra playing like a broken record; Drilling deeper and deeper into her head. If it was the right thing to do, why did she feel so bad?
He didn't raise his hand once. He did his work silently, his eyes trained ahead or on his slate. Never daring to look at her.
She raised her hand. This time it wasn't the same however, he didn't raise his. There was no competition. Without the challenge, she too stopped raising her hand.
Each minute stretched to feel like an hour, despite this, he couldn't recall any details of the day. He felt like he was underwater, submerged, separated and severed.
At lunch, Diana could barely get her to talk and she refused to say anything regarding her detention. She didn't eat.
He felt empty. Nothing was right. He was supposed to kiss her. She was supposed to kiss him back and it would spark into her recognizing her true feelings. They were supposed to break apart shyly with their cheeks painted pink. He would have walked her home and kissed her cheek as he said goodbye.
Supposed to. Would have.
The day was finally coming to a close and she felt as if she couldn't bear to be in that schoolhouse a second longer. She would feel guilty the whole walk home and all evening and all night. At least she couldn't see him and his broken eyes, that in themselves proved to be a constant reminder of her wicked words.
Exhausted, feeling as though he had worked all day rather than go to school, he walked home. He couldn't keep breaking behind another fake smile. The curtains, worn and tattered were about to crash down. He couldn't keep pretending that he was fine. Even though no one was really convinced he was fine at all. He couldn't wait to be home.
She did her chores and ate silently that evening. The dinner table was as silent as a graveyard, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. She normally propelled every dinner conversation with bubbly chatter and ramblings. Normally. Marilla didn't speak. Anne didn't speak. Matthew didn't speak. Marilla excused herself earlier than ever before that night and went straight to bed without cleaning her plate. If anyone was in worse condition than Anne it was Marilla.
Bash didn't ask questions. He understood after he had come home that day, tears spilling over his eyes, what had happened. He knew that nothing else could have completely broken this once strong boy. As soon as Gilbert came home he sipped off his boots, shrugged off his coat and trudged up the stairs. He took off only his sweater vest, leaving his pants and undershirt on and climbed on top of his bed, not bothering to get under his blankets. He wanted to cry but he couldn't. He could barely think. He felt distant, isolated and numb. However, it wasn't always that way, assisted by the passage of time, his thoughts began to wander. By the time it was so late, it was early, he began to feel it was all his fault. If only he hadn't tried to kiss her, he was guilty of ruining everything in his life and hers. If he didn't stop now he could destroy anything good he ever had. He needed to isolate himself, he had to, before things got out of hand and he ruined someone else's life. They would move on easily, he was young and hadn't a chance to impact anyone or be of any importance, for he was merely an insignificant speck in the great scheme of time. Besides, they were better off without him anyway.
Spiritless and almost lethargically his mind drifted away and he recalled something he read once. In a book she had spoken of with such enthusiasm he had to read it for himself; Jane Eyre.
"I have little left in myself -- I must have you. The world may laugh -- may call me absurd, selfish -- but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame."
how ironic.
-
I'm going to keep this short and sweet:
1. Thank you so so much for 1.5k reads, it means the world to me that so many of you actually want to read something I wrote :,)
2. I just flew back today from vacation and the time change has me up late, sooo because I've been gone you guys get 2 chapters in a row! yay!
3. I love reading your hilarious comments, they make my day! I love you guys!
4. I tried a different writing style, what do ya think?
-
Don't be a silent reader! Comment and vote!
You are beautiful and loved! Eat something, drink some water and smile! xx
Delilah
8/29/18
p.s i'm sorry this is so sad! even my heart was breaking while writing this, but don't worry we only allow happy endings for gilly :)
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/156931282-288-k59727.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
oblivious [anne x gilbert]
FanfictionAnne Shirley Cuthbert is in denial. Gilbert Blythe is in love. There is no way however, that they would ever admit that to another living soul, let alone each other. After all they were rivals. Right? - i own nothing :) this is pure shirbert (Anne...