redamancy: avonlea's tragical romance / shirbert

Chapter One

   The cold crisp air swept through Charlottetown, a clear and blatant sign of December on Prince Edward Island. Anne stared out the window of her writing class. The leafless trees and overcast skies matched feeling of her beloved college campus. Queen's felt deserted, cold and bare. It was the last day of class and most students had left for the journeys home.

   Anne's imagination which already ran at a speed too fast for most to comprehend ran even faster today. Her stormy eyes traced the shapes in the clouds as her teacher's voice fell short to anything close to exciting. The seat next to her was filled by someone new, as her usual desk mate was mid-journey across the world. Diana had left for Paris a week prior to meet her parents for the holiday season. She would spend the majority of the month break from Queen's there. The other girls had already packed their bags and left for Avonlea the day prior. He shook the desk slightly as he wrote, normally Anne wouldn't mind, but her desperation to get home grew close to irritable at this point.

   Her pointer finger and thumb was clamped down on her heart shaped locket, dragging it left and right as she chewed on her bottom lip.

   She wondered if Gilbert was looking at the same sky.

   After their kiss shared in front of her boarding house the day before their college lives began, Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley-Cuthbert were entranced with each other.

   Though in different cities, they exchanged letters weekly spill the contents of the beating hearts on to the paper by candlelight. Their darkest secrets, biggest fears and strongest desires were exchanged.

   Anne knew that from Gilbert's letters that his darkest secret was that he had stole medicine for weeks when his father was sick, his biggest fear was being alone and his strongest desire was to have a family.

   Gilbert knew that Anne's darkest secret was at one of her homes, she was abused in more ways then physical, her greatest fear was rejection by those that she loves and her strongest desire was to be the best version of herself.

   They knew their favorite memory, how many kids they wanted, the job of their dreams. Everything they've never told anyone, they wrote to each other. It was an intimate relationship, though not in the sinful way Rachel Lynde gossiped about. It was emotional intimacy, a mental connection that fueled physical attraction. They fell in love with each other's minds and heart before their lips were familiar.

Bells chimed through the air as the boring lecturer's sharp voice yelled, "class dismissed!" Jumping from her thoughts, Anne along with her classmates gathered their books and hurriedly walked away from the Queen's college campus and down the path, headed to her boarding room.

   Anne's auburn hair had fallen in front out of her high bun as she clutched her hat and books in each hand. She smiled at Ms. Blackmoore who sat reading in the couch, grabbing the hand railing to gain speed as she turned the corner to go upstairs.

"Slow down, Anne!" The shrill voice yelled, as Anne ran down the hallway, to excited to contain herself.

"Sorry!" Anne yelled back, yanking her door open carelessly. She entered her room and tossed the contents in her hands onto her bed and sighed. Her cloudy, steel eyes glanced around the beds and desk. She smiled fondly, before looking down at her arm. One of Marilla's old watches bared at her pale wrist read half past three, causing her to frantically grab the suitcase underneath her bed. It reminded her of months prior, when she had frantically packed to find Gilbert, to unburden her heart. Now, she packed to come home once again, this time together. The pale blue dress she has borrowed from Diana, circled around her as she neatly folded her colored dresses into the suitcase. She rushed to the desk drawers where letters from Marilla, Matthew and Gilbert were locked. She always took them or some to have as reminders of love, for healers when she was in the depths of despair. The latest from Gilbert rested on top of the stack, the words "to my dear Anne" written in his beautiful penmanship. She pressed her lips to the letter and held it close to her fast beating heart.