Gilbert Blythe Imagines

Over Thinking

I looked at my pocket watch, a soft spring breeze was blowing through my hair, folding my blanket. I folded it back open, sighing. she was late, she was never late, not for things like school at least, so where could she be?

I laid down on my back, attempting to read my book, but I couldn't focus, only on her, maybe she forgot or maybe she had other last minute plans, maybe she was just as nervous as me.

I plucked grass out of the field in frustration, my heart beating fast as I glanced over to the forest every few seconds, waiting for her, my feet tapping against eachother making me even more nervous, yet I couldn't stop.

I could, in my thoughts, see her run up to me, her beautiful h/c hair shining in the sun that wasn't even that bright. her smile growing bigger as she came closer and her light purple dress flowing around her. it seemed perfect, yet it wasn't real.

I grabbed my pocket watch again, she was 30 minutes late already, I began to question if this was even real, maybe I dreamed it, maybe she never said yes.

"Gilbert!"

my head shot up, there she was, finally, running towards me just as I had imagined. my heart skipped a beat as a smile creeped upon my face, she was real... and she was here.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said, panting for air, still her voice was tender. her face told me she indeed was sorry for making me wait.

I wondered why she was late, was she doing something she loved? something more important than me? something she wanted to finish before coming here to see me? maybe she didn't want to be here...

as if she read my mind she spoke; "my mother wouldn't let me leave before I did my chores."

I was relieved, because she didn't choose to make me wait, it wasn't necessarily her fault, which meant maybe, just maybe, she did want to be here.

"I- it's... it's alright," I stuttered, unable to breath for a second as she sat down next to me, very close. her knees were bend, pointing in my direction, they were almost touching my leg. heat rushed to my cheeks and I prayed she wouldn't look at my face and notice.

she folded her hands and laid them down in her lap, for a second I looked at them. her skin seemed so soft, yet I couldn't touch her. if I tried, a hundred things could go wrong. for example: she could pull her hands away, my hands could become sweaty... no would become sweaty and she'd think it's gross... or I could scare her off... and if I did take her hand, would I be going too fast? what's too fast? what's too slow? I could ask her, or would that be weird, probably. but maybe she already thought I was weird.

"so what were you reading?" she asked leaning over to read the cover of the book beside me, her face coming closer to mine. I looked up from her hands, a little shocked, how long did I zone out for? I really have to stop doing that! answer her! say something!

"The picture of Dorian Gray," she said, before I could speak, pulling her head back, making it possible for me to breath. "I believe my brother read that a few months ago, what's it about?" she asked.

I had almost finished it already, but maybe I wouldn't word it well, maybe I'd say something silly, something she wouldn't understand and I'd have to explain, I would stutter, which would be embarrassing... so I lied. "well... well I've only just... just started it so..."

"oh, well... let me know what you thought of it when you've finished it, maybe I'll read it too."

I nodded, "I will," I said, nervously smiling as I fiddled with my fingers. she smiled back, oh that wonderful smile, it made my knees go weak... good thing I wasn't standing.