#and then getting admonished for like. only doing laundry for four people while I can’t hear out of one ear and one eye is blurry from pain

[chromoluminary]

rage of a thousand tiny constantly misgendered suns

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

Happy Birthday to Me Pt 7

Knowing it was pointless, I turned away to try and mop up my face. Save a little of my dignity at least.  

“Maybe now the gift will be overkill if that’s his reaction to the cake,” someone… MianMian maybe? Whispered. It was hard to tell with my ears still plugged from my crying session still in progress. 

It worked as a good distraction though! I’d already been given so much I couldn’t accept any more! “No! After all that no one is allowed to give me any gifts! As king I forbid it!” I cried. 

And then Jin Ling, in his best and clearest 3 year old voice, chimed in. 

“No! /I/ am king!” he declared. “Gift for uncle!”

To which SangSang responded with a hearty laugh before stating that Jin Ling was his favorite.

“But you guys!” I protested, but Jiang Cheng cut me off by shoving me back into my chair in front of the cake. 

Everyone sat back down and stared at me.

I looked back at the cake. To the three figures on the pier. The tallest one was me. I could tell she’d spend the most time on that figure. 

I poked it a couple of times, jealous for a moment that it got to live in the past that was forever lost to me, only to be scalded by the candles that were still burning down to the quick. 

I know I was supposed to make a wish but that felt too greedy. What could I have the nerve to wish for after all that had been given to me?

I tried not to start crying again when DaGe suggested I blow out the candles. That was probably a good idea before I burned down the whole establishment or ruined Shijie’s masterpiece. It took me a couple of tries but I managed to get them all out. 

Apparently I’d been watched closer than I thought because Qin Su noticed I hadn’t paused to make a wish. 

“I already have everything I could ever ask for right now. How could I wish for more?” 

I must have said something right because I got a lot of loving smiles instead of looks of admonishment for once.

In a clear attempt to keep me from conveniently forgetting about the present (MianMian said as much. I swear they’re all out to get me.), everyone decided to have me open it before they would cut the cake, which was sure to be as delicious as it was beautiful. 

Jin Ling demanded he be the one to give the gift to me. Jin Zixuan held onto him to keep him steady as he leaned over to try to get the heavy gift while still on his dad’s lap. 

A-Yuan, who is just such a good, sweet boy, asked if he could help when he saw Jin Ling struggling. A-Ling looked at him for a loooong moment before he finally nodded. Lan Zhan moved out of his chair so that A-Yuan could stand on it to reach the bag. Between the two of them they managed to nearly topple it in front of me, but due to my own lightning fast ninja reflexes I managed to catch it and them before they could crash into anything. 

Through the bag I could feel…

“You guys bought me a book?” I asked. I mean I like reading but it’s an odd present. There wasn’t anything I was particularly craving to read and especially not something as thick as this felt. 

 Everyone just grinned and chattered at me excitedly. “Open your gift, Kid,” DaGe said, just as excited as everyone else. 

Well I’m not gonna say no to DaGe. I opened the bag and pulled out what did indeed turn out to be a book. But not just a book. 

“What…. Is this..?” I asked, even though the answer was more than obvious. 

“Open it up, Idiot,” Jiang Cheng said, though I don’t think he’s ever spoken to me in a more gentle tone before. I still stuck my tongue out at him as is my noble duty as the elder brother. 

I opened the cover carefully and was met with a picture of my parents. They were smiling at the camera with a little black-haired baby that could only be me held safely in their arms. 

I’d seen this photo before at Gamby’s house but oh… I wasn’t able to process it fully then. I’m not sure I was able to process it fully now. I’ll have to go through the album again when I’m alone. I’m tired of crying in front of other people. I flipped through the pages.  A timeline of my life. 

In the beginning it showed me slowly getting bigger with my mom and dad and gamby. A few pictures featured other children I didn’t know. We seemed so happy. 

And then, of course, all too soon in the timeline my parents were no longer featured. 

A photo of Gamby with Aunty Yi smiled up at me between the last of the photos that had clearly been supplied by them and the next ones that showed the further progression of my life. 

Of course there was a large gap in between the last photo with Gamby and the first with my siblings. A ten year old me grinned, holding up a large fish while Jiang Cheng pouted next to me with a much smaller catch. Shijie had insisted on the photo even though she hadn’t particularly liked fishing. 

Another picture of the three of us playing on the pier. It must have been a reference photo for the cake because we were all dressed in the same clothing. There was even one Jiang Cheng must have taken once of Shijie brushing my hair for me after a bath. 

I watched the three of us grow up, though through the following 8 years the pictures clearly grew more scarce. 

Then another gap in time. Much more recent pictures now featured me with my new siblings. Wen Qing had insisted on a ‘family photo’ after I learned how to smile again. I hated for Lan Zhan to see me there. I hadn’t quite recovered and even I can tell I was way too thin. Still the Wen siblings were at my sides and A-Yuan was in my lap while Granny Wen stood happily behind us. Uncle Four had taken the photo. I can still see his doofy grins as he tried to get A-Yuan to smile. The best we managed was to get him to look mildly puzzled. Still adorable. It must have been from a birthday of past because there were Halloween decorations all over in the background. 

Oh yes that’s right. I’d let it slip that it was my birthday and was soundly scolded for not telling them sooner. I remember. 

There were more pictures of the Wens. Just us all being silly together. Wen Ning agreeing to drink with me for once. That time I planted A-Yuan in the mud. (Wen Qing scolded me soundly for that too and made me do laundry for a month straight.)

Oh yes. We caught that scolding on camera too. Wen Ning snickered the whole time it’s a miracle he was able to hold the camera steady at all. 

Then came SangSang’s section. Selfies taken from our phone that we then sent to each other. Fake bar fights. Goofy smiles. 

It’s so good to have someone that I can just be silly with. Thank you for giving me that, Huaisang. I know I give you a lot of crap. You helped me out of a dark place by becoming my friend. I can’t thank you enough for that.

Just like Gamby and Aunty Yi’s section, the Nie section ended with a selfie taken of DaGe and SangSang. They’d taped a little note next to it in what must have been DaGe’s handwriting promising that I’d get to know him soon enough. 

When I mentioned how threatening that sounded, DaGe grinned at me and told me to blame Huaisang for that one. “He’s the one who wanted that written.”

I think SangSang stomped on his brother’s foot but it’s hard to tell because DaGe didn’t even flinch. 

I laughed a little and kept going. 

Lan Zhan.

Of course the picture he would have first would be of the bunnies. 

I say first picture.

I mean first couple pages of pictures. 

All bunnies. So. Many. Bunnies. 

I couldn’t help but coo at Suibian though. I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but she’s my favorite. I can’t help it. She's so cuuuuuuuuuuute.

Eventually I made it through the sea of bunbuns and found people again!

Qin Su and MianMian were pressing their cheeks against mine in a dark room. The theater!

Oh I never told you guys about the theater!! I’ll give you a short rundown

So Lan Zhan had gone out with Nie Huaisang I think and I was apparently moping. So the girls decided that it was time we all went out as friends. We had to wait until closing time so we couldn’t go out until it was rather late. Qin Su had leaned on the counter in front of me and slid her phone over for me to look at. She’d pulled up the showtimes for the theater nearby and told me to pick one. 

I must have looked as confused as I felt because MianMian had told me we were going out for drinks and a movie after work and told me again to pick one. 

“Newbie’s choice,” they’d insisted in sync when I tried to tell them anything was fine. In the end we went with the sappiest looking romantic comedy we could find. (It was the off season so there really weren’t any winners. May as well go for broke right?). 

We grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar while we waited for the time and had a wonderful time getting to know each other. MianMian had told me her actual name again but I still can’t for the life of me ever remember it. Sorry MianMian. I told her she could call me Yuandao to make it even. She looked confused until Qin Su snorted with laughter. She got it then and looked positively aghast. 

“Who yearns for you??

“I am HAPPILY married I’ll have you know!” she said indignantly while firmly grasping Qin Su’s hand. Qin Su just kept laughing. 

After that we spent a grand time watching what turned out to be a gloriously shitty movie while snickering and snarking to each other in careful whispers so as not to disturb the 4 other people in the theater. 

We’d taken a selfie on the way out to commemorate the evening and the formation of new friendships. <3

After that, to my delighted horror, was pictures of Lan Zhan and myself on our spa day. I’m amazed he was willing to show those to others. He even included the one of us with those ridiculous face masks!

“I can’t believe you had them printed!”

“There were no other pictures,” Lan Zhan pointed out. 

Fuck! He was right! I told him we’d have to fix that by spending at least an hour in the photo booth. Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to say something but Jiang Cheng interrupted by telling me to keep going. 

There were a couple of pictures of Qin Su and MianMian looking adorable together. 

And then.

A picture of Xichen smiling at the camera followed by a picture of Lan Zhan staring stoically ahead as he played his guqin. Well not stoic so much as completely absorbed by the music he was playing. It was in a room I didn’t recognize. He looked a bit younger though unfortunately it didn’t have long hair in it so it couldn’t have been from THAT long ago. 

He looked quietly peaceful. 

I nearly traced his face with my finger but caught myself before my hand actually made contact. I covered the movement by turning the page instead. I hope my face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

There wasn’t really anything after that. Just a few empty pages so I could keep adding new photos - something I will absolutely do. I started to close the book but SangSang stopped me. He told me to keep going.

Why? Was there a secret message at the end?

Turns out rather than a secret message, there was an envelope taped to the inside of the back cover. 

Oh fuck I’m still sick just thinking about it. 

It was full of checks. Like the money kind! Lots of them!

And Cash on top of it!

I pulled out the first one and screamed (which I still feel bad for because poor little A-Lian started to cry because I startled her). I didn’t mean to but FUCK!

“$3,000????? Huaisang are you f--CRAZY????” 

I managed to remember just in time that there were, in fact, children present and stopped myself from exploding in expletives.

He said it was also half from DaGe. As if that made it better. 

“Great. Then you’re BOTH crazy! Who gives $3000 as a birthday gift????????”

The golden peacock decided to chirp then and told me to keep counting because there was more. 

I nearly passed out then. More. MORE???

Yes more!

$7.5K more! 

I’m pretty sure my voice reached decibels no human could hear 

“You’re all crazy! I’m NOT keeping this!” I said. How could I possibly? That’s WAY WAY TOO MUCH. 

Ghosty I’m sorry I ever said you were extra after going through this my eyes have been opened to the true meaning of excess. (NO this is NOT an offer to give me more money!!!!!!!!!!)

“Yes you will,” Jiang Cheng said with the most punchable smirk I’d ever seen. “Accept it now with grace or you’ll see it in your bank account tomorrow anyway.”

“You wouldn’t!” I said. He wouldn’t even know how. 

“Oh yes I would. It’s as easy to get into your bank account as it is to get into your bl--”

For the second time in an evening I felt my palm getting viciously licked as I slapped my hand over Jiang Cheng’s mouth to keep him from fucking talking. 

We do NOT need people at that party 

Asking about this blog.

Fuck you JC.

And SangSang, don’t you DARE tell people either!

Let me save SOME face. I don’t know if I’d be able to face anyone again if they read this shit other than you two assholes. 

Rather than risk another slip of the tongue I thanked everyone kindly for their contributions. 

“You really really didn’t have to though! My boss is very generous and pays me quite well!”

I winked at Lan Zhan for fun. 

But I promised to cherish that photo album forever. And I will. I held it to my heart and tried not to cry againnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

[hawopro]

Ship Headcanons for BanHoji

otp rambling that got way too long (~1k) based on this post

First to confess their feelings: Ban

Hoji is too good at avoiding risks, he likes his life stable as it is, and would 10/10 talk himself out of the initial attraction to Ban. Confessing to Hoji is the only way for Ban to stop Hoji from ignoring the very-mutual interest, it’s like saying ‘Look at me, I’m here, I like you, you can’t run away now!’

First to apologize after a fight: Ban

He can’t stand being treated indifferently by Hoji. Ban likes their useless banters, likes having Hoji’s attention on him. Receiving Hoji’s professional stoned-face treatment, which is reserved for most of the auxiliary officers in base, is annoying. Like Ban isn’t special anymore. So anything but that.

First to wake up: Hoji

Six on the dot without any alarm. If they were up late the night before, he allows himself an extra hour until seven, when Ban’s alarm wakes everybody up except for Ban, whose internal clock is set to twenty before eight. Besides, waking up early means Hoji gets to watch Ban drooling onto the blanket to make fun of him later. 

First to fall asleep: Ban

He spends way too much energy bouncing around people during the day, indulging in various shenanigans with Tetsu and Umeko when there isn’t a case and arguing with Hoji about useless stuff. Yes, he crashes first, but only after wholeheartedly participating in other nighttime activity.

The affectionate one: Both

Ban likes to hang onto Hoji, draping his arm on Hoji’s shoulders, leaning on Hoji when he can because that’s a perfectly acceptable amount of touching in public. In private, he’s an octopus, can’t get rid of him. Hoji gives out hair ruffles and shoulder pats, but sometimes he forgets and does a little caress on Ban’s neck. The entire team notices.

The overprotective one: Both

Ban knows Hoji can fight his own battle, but his temper could handle only so much before he snaps and threatens to punch someone in the face for shit talking to Hoji. Hoji appreciates it in private; in public, he yanks on Ban’s collar and admonishes him for acting stupid while wearing a badge. Meanwhile Hoji was scared to death after Ban’s stunt with the meteor; he’s a little bit more vigilant with any danger coming Ban’s way despite knowing Ban can totally handle it.

The money savvy one: Hoji

Ban can’t exactly get his salary deposited while being undercover. When he gets back, there is a lot of money to be spent. He orders sushi delivery all the way to F.S. base, sends Hoji presents all the way to Earth--might have impulsively put down a deposit for a house before Hoji finds out and makes Ban stop splurging. Hoji manages the joint account when they move in together. He also coupons.

The more charismatic/popular one: Both

Hoji and his work ethics make him appear serious from outside views. He’s basically a perfect all-rounder Deka, so a lot of people admire him from afar (not knowing about him reverting to a five-year-old when it comes to fighting with Ban.) Ban is overly friendly, a whole puppy, able to get the most shy aux. officer to talk about her cats and Academy sweetheart. 

The better caregiver when the other is sick: Hoji

Hoji practically raises Miwa, he has to know everything about over-the-counter medicine and children’s sickness, and the ultimate way to make delicious porridge for a child who was picky. He still has how-to books back in the family house. Ban doesn’t get sick often, but Hoji totally has it under control when Ban does. 

Does the cooking: Hoji

Again, Miwa. So obviously he knows how to cook and has years of experience. He also (secretly) enjoys seeing Ban eating his food and gushing about how much he loves it. Ban eats canteen food before Hoji, knows how to perfectly recreate his mother’s old yakisoba recipe, but oversalts everything else.

Does the housework: Both

They both have busy schedules, whoever is free will do the laundry and stock up on groceries at the end of the week. Bathroom cleaning is twice a month, they’ll take turns. Deep house cleaning is done when they both have the same day off. They make a date out of it. Usually finishing in the afternoon, leaving enough time for fancy dinner and a mystery movie on the couch. 

Does most of the speaking: Ban

Ban speaks about everything and anything, telling Hoji about Murphy, his new F.S. teammates, and the food he manages to cook. Not much about mission because, well, classified. He’s constantly curious about Hoji’s days, has an opinion on almost everything. He’s low-key scared that if they run out of things to talk, Hoji will hang up. Hoji usually stays on the phone until Ban falls asleep without knowing.

Designated driver: Ban

Ban’s been behind the wheels since he was fifteen. Pat Striker is like an extension of his body. He can drive anything that has four or more wheels easy. Hoji prefers the motorcycle, and hasn't driven a car since he got Machine Husky and Pat Gyror. Well, by the time they move in together, SPD finally developed teleportation tech. But Ban drives on occasion. 

Has good penmanship: Hoji

Before the report system completely switches to digital, they have to write reports out by hand in pen and enter copies in the computer system. Hoji’s reports look like they were printed with Yu Gothic font eleven, consistently every time. Boss makes Ban redo his report once every two that he turns in because his handwriting is basically illegible. 

Has a troubled past: Ban

When he was thirteen, one of the cram school teachers pulled him out of class and told him his mother was dead; an Alienizer’s attack wiped out the entire neighborhood where he lived. His extended family was fighting about who should keep a daughter-in-law’s son. A Dekaranger, whose face Ban didn’t remember, attended the funeral and mentioned to Ban about SPD Academy.

Has more experience with relationship: Hoji

Ban got friendzoned by Zamuzan Maira. Hoji sort of got rejected by Vino back in their Academy days. Hoji almost got to third base with Mikean Teresa. It’s one to two, leaning toward Hoji. Ban is eager to learn new things though.

Keeps more secrets in the relationship: None

Being intergalactic-long-distanced married means they can’t afford secrets, but they do try to downplay injuries from the job to prevent worrying the other. Want to find out accurate status update? Contact Jasmine for Hoji’s, and Mari Gold for Ban’s.

Sensitive to subtle changes in their partner: Hoji

For all the smiles and the pouts that Ban wears clearly on his face, he’s very private with his pain and insecurities. Those he shoves down to somewhere in his chest and hopes by the time they come back up, he won’t be as affected anymore. Hoji doesn’t push the issue, but he lets Ban know that Ban doesn’t have to fake anything with him. 

The one who proposes: Hoji

It’s supposed to be a surprise for Christmas, but he impulsively does it in front of the team during overtime. Because what the heck, might as well because the ring is right here, and Ban sees it already. But then they both overthink, and cases/things happen, so Hoji has to do it again, private from the team, but very much in front of strangers, on one knee. 

The one who dies protecting their partner: Ban

Episode 43, please it’s canon. Seriously though, Ban’s body would move before he even thinks about how sad Hoji would be, about Hoji having to clean up the mess after and organizing services. Shame that he makes Hoji cry, but even as he lies in F.S. uniform soaking in a similar red, he wouldn’t say he regrets it.

[royalcordelia]

Summary:  Anne and Gilbert embark on their journeys, but stay close to each other at heart. Courting across 1000 miles isn't easy, but they're more than willing to step up to the task. (A post s3 story).

Notes: I was snowed in this weekend, which gave me some time to pour my heart and soul into this chapter. I hope you like it!! 

~*~

Anne knew she was not what Gilbert’s friends were expecting. She remembered what it was like to see Winifred for the first time, with her thin gloved fingers holding Gilbert’s arm and curlicues of golden hair framing her beautiful face. Even tripping on the uneven Avonlea ground, Winifred had looked every bit like an elegant novel heroine -  one that made complete sense to be at Gilbert’s side. Now Anne was the one at Gilbert’s side, it was her hand holding his forearm. She had to wonder if she looked half as suitable for him as Winifred had. 

When Gilbert squeezed her hand, Anne let go of her nervous thoughts with a sigh. What did it matter how she looked ? She knew better than anyone how suitable she was for Gilbert. It was a fact that could not be disputed, and if anyone tried, she’d prove them wrong with fierce determination. Even though first impressions were not, historically speaking, Anne’s forte, she could only feel pride as Gilbert swept her before his peers with an eager smile on his lips. 

His friends, much to Anne’s complete relief, seemed just as pleased. There were four, including Ron, and each off of their own distinct energies that Anne immediately got to work trying to read. 

“Gotta hand it to you, Gil, that was quite a show you put on for the entirety of Toronto,” one of the boys teased with a smirk as they approached. The young lady beside him whapped him on the arm with a murmured admonishment. Anne blushed, biting her cheek against the urge to apologize for scandalizing them all, but Gilbert could not have been less embarrassed.

“Anne’s come to visit!” he exclaimed, as if his excitement had bubbled over beyond his control. Then, remembering to maintain some semblance of decorum, he said, “Everyone, this is Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, my sweetheart from back home I’ve been telling you about. Anne, this is Fred, Trevor, and Priscilla. You know Ron.” 

“Ah, the ever famous Anne-with-an-E,” the same lad from before, Fred,  appraised. He offered a friendly hand, which Anne accepted immediately. “It feels like we all already know you with how much Gilbert talks about you.” 

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Wright,” Anne chuckled. Fred grinned when she remembered his name. “It certainly is a delight to put such lovely faces to names I’ve only read in letters. Thank you for taking care of this afoot-and-lighthearted man of mine. I’ve rested easier knowing that he’s been in good hands.” 

Priscilla extended her own hand to Anne, except when the redhead moved to shake it, Priss pulled her down beside her and tucked her arm through Anne’s elbow.

“Gilbert, I think I am quite taken with this lady of yours. I’ll be seizing her from your hands presently, if she doth not protest,” she said with a dramatic flair.  

Priss, Anne recalled from Gilbert’s letters, was one of the only women in Gilbert’s medicine department. It had taken a headstrong Emily Oak single handedly battling against a conference room of a male admissions officers to get them to consider accepting Priscilla’s application. After which, she exceeded every expectation of her academic success, and soared past Gilbert as top of the class. Someone has to keep you on your toes while you’re at school, Anne had said in a letter. Maybe, Gilbert replied, but if there’s anyone to concede to - and it can’t be you - I’m not opposed to it being Priss. You’d like her a lot. 

“I come willingly!” Anne laughed. “I want to hear all about what it’s like to be the only female presence in your classes. You must have thrilling tales of battling unfairness and conquering injustice.”

“I do!” Priss replied earnestly.

“I admire you so much for it! Gilbert and I have some stories of our own if you’d ever like to hear them. Although, I do think I’d much rather hear yours first!” 

“Don’t tempt her,” Gilbert joked, settling down at Anne’s free side. “She means it when she says she’ll steal you away indefinitely, and I won’t have that.” 

A breeze caught some of Gilbert’s cologne and drifted the familiar scent to Anne, who smiled when it graced her. It meant he was close, here . Already, Toronto was every bit as captivating as she expected, but his persistent loving smile had much to do with it. 

“This lot has heard all the stories I have to tell. I’d much rather learn more about you, Anne,” Priss stated. Her eyes wandered along Anne’s auburn curls, but her nose scrunched when she noticed a knotted fluff on the back of her head. “Gilbert has gone and kissed you with no consideration for your hair. Please allow me to remedy that for you.” 

Laughter bubbled out of Anne, and she angled her back so that Priss might detangle the mess Gilbert had left. 

“If you have anything you’d like to know, ask away. I’m an open book,” Anne said, glancing around the circle. 

“Gilbert told us he had an apprenticeship with PEI’s best doctor. How true is that?” Trevor spoke up. He was a young man with a round face and a fleshy scar under his eye. But it gave his personage no hint of villainy. In fact, he reminded her of Moody back home. Perhaps this poor fellow was just as clumsy.

“Ah, I see. I am to fact-check. It’s true, at least in common opinion. Dr. Ward was Charlottetown’s best doctor, but he treasured Gilbert’s family. In fact, I’ve gone to him for my annual check up. It’s no wonder he took Gilbert under his wing because they truly are quite alike.” 

 “He took care of my father when he was sick, and then my sister-in-law when she was ill,” Gilbert added. Anne found his hand and pressed it to her lips. How hard it must’ve been to be away from home when your heart was still grieving. 

“Isn’t that the same doctor Winifred worked for?” Ron piped in. Gilbert stiffened. 

“Who’s Winifred?” Priss questioned innocently, but frowned when she noticed the subtle droop in Anne’s shoulders. 

“Ron-” exasperated Gilbert, but Trevor held up a hand. 

“No, now I want to know, too.” 

Gilbert was determined not to answer, and even more resolute to change the subject. He didn’t intend to spend his first weekend with Anne since he’d left talking about the past. Not when there was so much future to look forward to, not when there was so much of the present to enjoy. But Anne had said they could ask any questions they wished, so she gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“She was the girl Gilbert was courting during our last year at school. I met her at the county fair in the summer,” she answered evenly. 

This stunned the group to silence, except Ron, who had by then heard the entire story. 

“You all don’t go around airing your dirty laundry and mistakes,” Gilbert defended against their judging stares.

It was too late. Fred was now too deeply invested in the story and leaned his elbows onto his knees to look Anne in the eye.

“That must’ve been difficult, trying to get along with someone you didn’t like for Gilbert’s sake.” 

“Oh, I liked her well enough,” Anne admitted.  

“You weren’t jealous?” 

Anne’s gaze fell to brick of the steps. She didn’t mind Gilbert’s friends knowing, but it was different to have Gilbert hear it. Somehow, the pain she’d felt during those days felt private and shameful. To expose feelings which had long since dissipated now would only cause Gilbert discomfort.  

Eventually, she confessed, “I was sick with envy. But there wasn’t anything about Winifred to dislike. Her family was charitable and she was friendly, not to mention gorgeous. Avonlea was so pleased at the match that I resigned myself to the notion that sometimes one must swallow their grief in favor of a friend’s happiness.” 

Priss let go of Anne’s hair to take her hand, squeezing it gently. At that moment, Anne realized she was being understood, and the comfort it brought made her throat thick. She wouldn’t meet Gilbert’s eyes, even though she could see his fingers twitching against the urge to reach out to her. 

“The victory is yours to brag to all of Avonlea about,” Priss said quietly. “I’ll help you if you’d like! Teach those Avonlea folk who to underestimate.” 

“That’s alright,” said Anne sweetly. Finally, she met Gilbert’s gaze and found dense with his own shame. “The victory is mine and Gilbert’s alone. All of Avonlea knows about about it now, and the people who care about me are happy. It doesn’t matter to me what the others are saying.” 

“What are they saying?” Gilbert said. 

“Really, Gil-” Anne interrupted, but his brows creased and she gave an unconvincing shrug. “All they’re saying is that it must be terrible to be someone’s second choice.” Gilbert’s mouth snapped open, the argument nearly off his tongue when Anne rushed to finish. “But I know that’s not true, so what does it matter?”

Anne supposed it occurred to Gilbert right at that very moment that perhaps she’d had left some important truths out of her letters when she said that the unpleasantness of the Winifred was long forgotten. 

“Golly, I’m sorry I wanted to know,” Trevor murmured awkwardly. 

Anne released a sigh, and with it some of the tension she’d been holding in her heart. 

“In truth, it’s actually quite the story. One of two unreceived letters of love declarations, dancing, and rushing through Charlottetown for last chances.” 

“That sounds right out of a Jane Austen novel,” Priss swooned. 

“I thought so too,” Anne agreed, a blush blooming on her cheeks. “But for the sake of the gentlemen in our group, why don’t I choose another story of dramatic adventure for them? Like the time Gilbert and I battled a house fire together?” 

This had Fred and Trevor intrigued enough that Anne began to weave the tale together with the tenderness for storytelling she always had. Within the first few words, Gilbert’s friends came to discover he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said she was a gifted storyteller. With ease, she painted the vivid image of the burning Gillis house in their minds. They could feel the heat on their cheeks and smell the smoke. Gilbert, whose heart was still tight from Anne’s forgiveness and his own remorse, couldn’t help himself from leaning forward and press his lips to her cheek. She only stuttered her story for half a second, giggling and holding his head to her. 

“I don’t even think his jacket got singed, but I was covered in soot by the end of the night,” Anne said through her laughter. He hadn’t quite pulled back when someone rushed up to them. 

“Here you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for-” 

Anne paused her story and looked up to see a tall young woman with black silk for hair and a delicate porcelain face gawking at her with something Anne couldn’t place. Horror? Shock? Revulsion? As soon as it was there, though, the raw emotion faded away, and the woman turned to Gilbert with practiced neutrality. It took Gilbert a split second to realize he was being addressed, his face still close to Anne’s.  

“Gilbert, we’re going to be late for Global Histories if you don’t hurry,” the woman stated, almost through her teeth. 

“It was awfully kind of you to come find me, but I think I’m going to skip my last two classes for the day. If you could tell Professor Harden that I’ve got someone in town visiting me, I’d appreciate it.” He stood, pulling Anne to her feet and bringing her over to the woman. “Anne, meet Christine Stuart, Ron’s sister. Christine, Anne,” he introduced. 

“Your...sister?” Christine asked hopefully. 

Anne snorted, and nudged Gilbert. 

“If I was, he wouldn’t be nearly this handsome. Gilbert is thankfully not my brother, but my suitor. It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Stuart,” Anne said warmly. She couldn’t tell how, but Christine seemed awfully familiar. Then, all at once, she placed the resemblance. “You look exactly like a story character I created when I was a girl. You can only imagine how much an eight-year-old orphan longed to have the looks and grace of a princess!” 

Christine was neither charmed, nor flattered. 

“How delightful,” she said dubiously. Remembering something, she spun to Gilbert. “Does this mean you aren’t going to the Autumn Banquet tomorrow?” 

“I suppose that just depends on Anne. I’d be fine either way,” Gilbert replied. 

“My goodness, that’s this weekend, isn’t it?” Anne cried. She placed her hand on Gilbert’s shoulder, and very narrowly missed Christine glaring at it. “I was so eager to get here after Bash asked me to that I completely forgot you had made plans. Of course you must still attend the banquet! I don’t mind leaving you alone for a few hours to form connections in your department.” 

The Autumn Banquet, as it turned out, was a ball put on by the Toronto Science Department annually to allow the students to network and meet their professors, as well as visiting professionals in a range of fields. Gilbert had been preparing his good first impressions for weeks - successfully, too, after Anne had given him a constant stream of support in her letters. 

“Nonsense! You’d be welcome to attend with me. I’d appear exponentially more intelligent escorting you,” Gilbert insisted. “Anyone who doesn’t take to you, Anne, is someone I don’t want to be around.” 

Christine wrinkled her nose at this, and folded clenched fists behind her back. 

“Then who will take me?” Christine tried to sound curious instead of frustrated, but her performance fell flat. 

“Science isn’t your department, Chris. If you’re eager to go, I’ll take you,” Ron offered. 

Christine frowned. 

“I’d take you too!” Fred cut in. She opened her mouth to argue, but realizing that her options were running dim, pressed her lips together and nodded.

“That’d be fine, Mr. Wright. Thank you.” 

“And you’ll go, Anne?” Gilbert said hopefully. 

“I wouldn’t miss it!” she agreed, before groaning and biting her lip. “Except I’ve nothing to wear. I brought one of my old Green Gables dresses with me. Appropriate for milking cows, but certainly not for balls.” 

“You can borrow one of Christine’s. I’m certain they’d fit,” Ron said.

Christine might’ve rebuffed this with a fury, but then Gilbert turned to her with optimistic eyes and said, “I could bring Anne over and then you could come with us to the banquet, after all!” 

It was then that Anne realized that Christine’s heart wasn’t thorny because of a predisposition. The second Christine had met Gilbert’s hazel gaze, her hard exterior had melted, a blush arose on her cheeks, and she brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. Anne waited to feel threatened or anxious, but instead, she could only sympathize with Christine. After all, it wasn’t long ago she herself had accidentally stumbled upon the knowledge that Gilbert was previously engaged. 

“If that makes you uncomfortable, then I’d be more than happy to go in what I’ve packed. People will understand once they hear that I’d surprised him without previous planning,” Anne supplied, but Christine was determined to save Gilbert’s opinion of her. 

“Not at all, I’d be happy to loan you a dress. Stop by tomorrow and I’ll do your hair, as well. It is such a lovely shade of red,” she said politely. 

“That’s very gracious of you, Miss Stuart, thank you,” Anne replied honestly. She tried to take the cordiality as a victory, but before she could, she saw the envy lining the edges of Christine’s green eyes. 

“Well, Global Histories awaits. I’ll see you all tomorrow at the banquet.” Her dress caught dandelion floss as she disappeared away toward her class, but she didn’t look back. 

Christine had only been gone a moment before Gilbert took Anne’s hands in his. 

“What do you say I show you around Toronto a little bit. There’s a park nearby that has all the trees a redheaded dryad like you could want.” Anne cocked a brow. “For a city, that is. Just you and me?” 

“That sounds nice,” Anne agreed, a warm smile dimpling her cheeks. She turned to the group who had split off into their own conversation. “I’m so glad I got the chance to meet you all. Thank you for your kindness. It seems there are kindred spirits even 1000 miles from home.” At this, Anne smiled at Priss. 

“We’ll see you at the banquet tomorrow,” Priss said, with a wave. 

They’d made it halfway across the yard when Ron called out, “Don’t forget to bring that report to Dr. Oak, Gil!” 

Gilbert groaned and slumped over a little, before shooting Anne an apologetic smile. 

“I don’t mind a detour,” she promised, much to her beau’s relief. 

Off they went, up the brick paths of the campus, still lined with flowers and their last lingering traces of life. Anne was the recipient of many impressed glances as Gilbert’s classmates offered passing hello’s and how-do-you-do’s, an unexpected phenomena that fed her healing pride. Before long,  they were passing through the grandiose corridors of the medicine department where the air smelled of formaldehyde and rubbing alcohol. Anne wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming scent, but Gilbert seemed already accustomed to it. The hallways were completely quiet other than the sound of the faint murmur of nearby classes and the clicking of Anne’s heels. 

They came upon Dr. Oak’s office, only to find the door closed. Gilbert sifted through his bag until he retrieved an ivory stack of parchment, then after a moment of awkward hesitation, he slid it under the door. They turned to walk away when a muffled voice called from inside the office, “Gilbert? Is that you?” 

“Wait here a moment,” he told Anne, squeezing her hand. 

Just as Gilbert opened the door to enter, an older gentleman emerged out of the room. He gave a brief, polite nod to Gilbert as he passed, before sparing a glance at the waiting Anne. A jolt of awe surged through her, the same one she’d felt when she’d met Bash, Ms. Stacy, Ka’kwet, and Priscilla. It was as if her mind was prodding her saying, This is a person who is changing the world. Listen to their stories, share in their worldview, let them teach you.

The man was an educator just by the looks of him. He wore his fearlessness on his broad shoulders and had skin a cool shade of brown. Only fueling to Anne’s growing fascination was a familiar book tucked under his arm. 

“Excellent taste in literature, sir,” she complimented shyly. The man stopped his strong steps and peered down at Anne with amusement. He pulled the book from his arms and held it out before her, a glint lighting his eyes when her face fell. 

“I didn’t think I’d ever meet a fan of Tristram Shandy . How rare such a moment is,” he teased. Anne bit her tongue, suddenly wishing she could crawl into a hole for a winter long hibernation. 

“Oh, how I wish I could attest that that I am a fan of Laurence Stern’s work,” she began with failing enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I mistook that volume as a copy of Middlemarch, which shares the likeness. I’m afraid I have to regretfully rescind my compliment. Tristram Shandy is deplorable.” 

The man let out a hearty laugh and stuffed the dreaded text back into his satchel. 

“That is quite alright. It’s is an acquired taste for a peculiar type of palate. I prefer Eliot myself, though I find it’s a dangerous pastime ‘for we all of us, grave or light, get our thoughts entangled in metaphors, and act fatally on the strength of them.’”

Anne grinned. She, too, had quotes up her sleeves.

“Yet, I wouldn’t trade such powerful literature for the world. After all, ‘it is always fatal to have poetry or music interrupted’ and removing prose and posey from my life would certainly result in my ruination.”

If the pleased smirk on his face was any indication, Anne had successfully made another kindred spirit. 

“I’m offering a class on women authors next semester. You should take it, Miss…”

“Shirley-Cuthbert, sir. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I’d be delighted to, only I’m not a student here. I’m just in Toronto for the weekend visiting my beau, the young man speaking with Dr. Oak.” 

“I see. Encourage him to find some time in his busy medical program to take the class just for the joy of it. I’m Dr. Clarence Sullivan if he asks.”

“I certainly will, thank you!” Anne cheered. He gave her a nod and an accompanying smile before stepping away to his next engagement. 

“Oh, and Anne,” he called out over his shoulder. She quirked a red brow. “If you’re ever visiting again during the week, you’re welcome to sit in on one of my classes. I feel you could provide my students with a fresh perspective.” 

Before she could respond, he had disappeared down another corridor, leaving her alone for only a few seconds before Gilbert had closed Dr. Oak’s door behind him. 

“Sorry about that. Shall we?” He offered her his arm, which Anne accepted. A fluttering excitement bloomed once again throughout her entire chest, growing bigger and bigger against her ribs. As they began to walk, Gilbert cleared his throat.“Dr. Oak wanted to meet you, but she has a meeting in a minute.” 

“There will be plenty of time to meet her on my future visits. I just met Dr. Sullivan from the English department. Any man that can quote Middlemarch without hesitation is a kindred spirit. He enlisted me to convince you to take his class on female authors next semester.” 

“I haven’t taken that many classes outside of my medical curriculum, so it’d be long overdue. I’ll talk to Dr. Oak about fitting it in my schedule,” Gilbert agreed heartily. 

As they exited the building, a warm autumn breeze swept across Anne’s freckles, carrying with it the perfume of fallen leaves and the last faint blooms of the garden. 

“The longer I’m here, the more it seems I could just toss my train ticket to the air and stay here by your side,” she murmured against the wind. 

“Don’t taunt me with promises you don’t intend to keep, Miss Shirley,” Gilbert teased. Without warning, he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “Any more talk like that, and I’ll be inclined to whisk you into my arms and drag you to all my classes. Queens be damned!” 

Their laughter carried them to the city gardens where the trees released their sunset leaves to the open air and the pair walked without care or worry down the dusty path. 

*

Without knowing it Anne and Gilbert stepped into Lovegrove’s Restaurant sharing the exact same thought: So this is what it’s like to be courting. Even for Gilbert, who had been attributed some experience in courtship, the whole affair felt entirely new. In the dim lighting of the dining room, Anne was the picture of elegance, so familiar and beloved to him that he knew his heart wasn’t racing in anxiety, but anticipation. Suddenly, he felt a keen readiness to pull out her chair for her, to accidentally nudge her feet under the table, to listen to her speak her mind and to be listened to in return. It hadn’t been that way with Winifred. He wasn’t nervous about misstepping or doing something wrong. With Anne, he could be himself unapologetically and be certain she’d accept him unconditionally. 

On her part, Anne was still a novice in being the center of a person’s attention. During their walk, through the park, she found herself slightly unaccustomed to the unashamed adoration in Gilbert’s attentive gaze. And now, as he fulfilled his every urge to be her perfect gentleman, Anne couldn’t help but feel a blush rising to her cheeks. 

As the host lead them to their table, she felt him brush his fingers against hers. A chill traveled up to her elbow, and she bit her lips against a shy smile. Her smile only grew as he uttered a sweet compliment in her ear, pulling her chair out for her with scarcely veiled pride. “You look lovely.” 

Anne dropped her shy gaze. She didn’t look any different than any other time he saw her. Maybe it was how he always saw her? After all, she felt the same way about him. 

When he settled across the table, they gave the waiter their orders and stared at each other in breathless anticipation. Where could they begin? Nothing had changed terribly, except that their friendship involved quite a bit more kissing and a lot less arguing than it had in years past. Anne’s mind rushed, hoping she could find a satisfying dinner conversation. 

“Anne.” Her gaze snapped up to his, and it occurred to her maybe he’d called once or twice already. “Relax. You look like you’re afraid I’ll reach across the table and bite you.” 

It was only then that Anne felt tight tension in her own shoulders and her fists clenched together on her place setting. Gilbert reached across the table, taking her hand and shaking it gently. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and the tension dissipated. 

“It feels just like that day I last saw you. As if no time at all has passed,” she confessed. “Yet, I’ve read all about your first two months of university over and over. How strange it is that that happens.” 

“I know the feeling,” Gilbert agreed. “Sometimes I remember our early days in school and I think, This isn’t the same girl you’ve cared for all this time. It’s your imagination tricking you. But mercifully, you’re no trick of the mind.” 

“I spent much more time than I realized imagining about you - even when I thought I hated you. And you know how my imagination is.” 

“Really?” Gilbert murmured, both shy and delighted.

“Of course.” Anne shrugged. “At first, they were just intrusive daydreams, tiny moments where I’d find myself picturing you smiling or writing calculations on your slate. Then when you were gone, I’d look out at the ocean and play all the different ways you’d return back home. In some of them you were a grown man finding me on the shores. Others took place the very second I imagined them, as if had expected you to appear out of nowhere. I never confronted the possibility you wouldn’t come back. It’s like part of me always knew. Of course, a point came when my imaginings took an unavoidably romantic turn.” 

Gilbert had been stunned speechless, and Anne felt another hot blush color her freckles. 

“I’m sorry, that was incredibly forward of me,” she said quietly. 

“No no!” he stammered. “No, I just...still can’t believe you’ve been thinking of me as long as I’ve been pining after you.” 

“And I can’t believe you longed for me right under my nose, and I never knew!  The entire idea seemed impossible, but I clung to the possibility that you might care the same way children don’t want to suspend their belief in magic. In fact, if you hadn’t brought... guests to the county fair, I would’ve probably confronted you.”

Gilbert’s eyes widened. Then, to level the playing field he made his own quiet admission.

“If you hadn’t mentioned Ruby, I probably would’ve posted about you on the Notice Board. Even after you did, I still considered it. Had a few notices planned.” 

An image came across her mind - one where she’d approach the Take Notice board, only to find a beautiful message written in his familiar scrawl. She would’ve taken it down gently, saved it somewhere special, maybe even written one or two of her own. 

“We’ve been just barely missing each other all this time,” Anne said, somewhat mournfully. 

“Not anymore,” Gilbert reminded her.

“No,” she agreed. “And not ever again.” 

Eventually, their meals came, and the conversation took a lighter turn. Now that she’d had met all of his friends, she was more interested in hearing more about them. In turn, Gilbert - much to her immense surprise - wanted to hear all about the Avonlea girls and their various exploits. When she’d mentioned how excited she was to be learning sign language with Lily, his face had brightened. 

“Can you show me some?” he asked eagerly. 

Anne pondered this, remembering all her favorite practice sentences or the books she’d signed while she read. Instead, she decided on something she’d never signed before. Gilbert watched her hands, trying to catch any semblance of meaning, but fell back in his seat. 

“I couldn’t even begin to guess!” he laughed. Anne repeated the question, this time speaking aloud while she did it. 

“What did your T-A-K-E N-O-T-I-C-E note say?” Then, occupying her hands with her cutlery once more, she said, “Do you remember?” 

Gilbert’s smile was warm and open. He nodded, murmuring his reply as if it were a secret he had long ago packed away. “One day Gilbert will be brave enough to tell Anne the truth ,” he recalled. “I almost wasn’t.”

“Don’t torture yourself with ‘almosts’. Believe me, my experience with them is vast.” She tried to keep her voice light, but Gilbert could sense the underlying weight. “Marilla and Matthew almost didn’t let me stay, we almost didn’t save Miss. Stacy’s job, you almost didn’t make it in time to end our misunderstandings. But all those things ended up for the better, just as they were meant to.”

“You’re right, not that I’m surprised,” he conceded with a fond smile. A mischievous glint flickered in his eye. “If you could’ve written a notice about me, what would you have said?” 

Anne released a laugh that was almost too loud for the establishment. To dangle the poor boy in suspense, she playfully tapped her finger to her lips. She waited until he was halfway through a sip of tea to say, “Anne thinks Gilbert has a marvelously, splendid chin.” 

And if nearby diners glared at them while Gilbert coughed and laughed, then that was their business. The Avonlea pair was none the wiser, content to be alone in their own little corner of the world, together at last.

*

Nighttime came far too soon for Gilbert’s liking. Yet, he found himself warming to the idea as Anne waited for him to finish washing in his room. He came back, fresh and clean, ready to be in her company once more. What he saw made him heave a lovesick sigh. 

 It was moments like these that he wished he could go back in time to somehow convince some famous painter to follow him back to the present and capture the moment before him. A photograph wouldn’t do, not when a thousand different hues of orange and gold glinted off of Anne’s loose hair in the candlelight and the silver of the moonlight turned her lacy nightdress to crystal. Surely Renoir or Monet would understand the exquisite beauty of Anne stargazing into the Toronto sky. Still, there was much to be said about Gilbert getting to keep this sight entirely to himself. 

Leaning against his door frame - for fear that any movement would shatter the moment - Gilbert felt like the wind was sweeping his feet out from underneath him, pulling him into the skies above the dewy grass and the tall cityscape. Love was pulling him under its stupor, it seemed, but he was more than willing to follow. Where else could he go, except toward a future with Anne’s tender support and unyielding affection to warm him?

Yet, there was something that he could not withstand ignoring any longer. 

“You didn’t mention had a bay window,” Anne said lightly, glancing back at the half-lit Gilbert waiting at the edge of the room. Her brows creased together when he remained unmoving. “What’s wrong? Is it because I’m in here, because if it is, I don’t mean to make you a stranger in your own bedroom?” 

He wasn’t going to ask her to leave. Not when Ron just confessed to them that Actually, I forgot I’ve been using the guest room as storage. Anne’s more than welcome to use the bed, but the floor is covered in cases. They’d taken a peek inside, only to find that even the bed was covered in Ron’s many belongings. Anne had assured them she didn’t mind sleeping on the sofa downstairs, but Gilbert insisted she sleep in his bed. He’d sleep on the sofa. 

Another cloud came over his thoughts. He should sleep outside in the cold for all he put her through. How long could he keep pretending he’d done nothing wrong? How much longer could he ignore that he’d done little on the front of atonement?

“Gilbert?” Anne called softly. His hazy vision cleared and he found Anne’s soft lips pressed together in worry. She’d moved to the edge of the window seat, clutching it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Gilbert rushed to pull together his thoughts, but they were racing at a million miles a minute with no coherent end in sight. The words she said next made all the roaring his head turn silent. “If you want me to leave, I can take the midnight train.” 

“N-no!” he stammered out of his contemplation, his instincts working on his behalf.

The fingers Gilbert had been anxiously holding together fell limp at his side. Mind suddenly clear, he crossed the room so softly, as if approaching a frightened animal. Her stormy sea eyes widened when he dropped to his knees before her - a gesture of prostration, but one that put him on her eye level. 

“Anne, if I could have every one of my dreams exactly how I imagined them, you would never leave my side. You’d sit here in this window every night, and I’d watch the movement in your imagining eyes in hopes that might be thinking of me.” He paused. “Do you think you could ever forgive me for being so selfish?”

“Gilbert-” Anne scolded gently, but he shook his said. 

“I am so ashamed. I’ve been selfish and foolish. I should’ve known better than to think I’ve atoned for the pain I caused you, that heartache you felt was over. I’ve been so caught up in my own happiness, that I forgot I ever wronged you. I should’ve known better than anyone that heartache doesn’t merely disappear when it becomes irrelevant. But that ends right now. I don’t have much to offer you right now, but what I can give you are certainties, things that will never change.” 

He took one of her hands, covering it with a soft touch, and brought it above his heart. It raced under her fingertips, matching the pace of her own heart. With a shaky sigh, he continued. 

“I’m certain that you’ve never been second best to anyone or anything, especially when it comes to me, because you’re the only person ever I adored with my entire soul. I’m certain that no matter what adventures life sweeps you away on, I want to be by your side, upholding you, protecting you, being your strength. I’m certain that you will always have a safe space with me to talk and dream and cry and speak your mind without restraint. But most of all, Anne, I’m certain that I love you. I will love you enough to make up for all the times you felt like it was impossible that anyone ever could.” 

A tear slid down the side of Anne’s nose - then another, then another - but still she said nothing. With her one hand still pressed up Gilbert’s heart, she lifted the other one to the side of his face, caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers. He leaned into her touch, closing his own glossy eyes. 

“I wonder if you could forgive me for my moments of doubt,” Anne muttered. Gilbert met her gaze and his soul sighed as if to say There’s nothing to forgive . With a fraction of movement, he leaned upwards smiling when she shortened the distance. Her hair draped along the sides of his face when she brought her lips onto his, curtaining them away from the rest of the world. He inhaled a deep breath when she wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him up to sit with her on the window seat. 

Anyone peering up from the road through the lace drapes would have seen Gilbert take Anne’s face in both hands and kiss her with unapologetic ardor. The lady herself found her hands tangled in his hair, chest heaving against his own as she battled the need for air with the pressing desire to keep kissing him. For the first time in her life, she felt desirable and invincible, incandescently overjoyed to have her past fears be proven so wrong. 

Another tear slid down, sending salt onto her tongue. Gilbert pulled back with a warm smile, his cheeks dimpling with adoration as he brushed aside her tears. Anne was helpless to do anything but gaze up in wonderment and say the only words she knew, “I love you so terribly, Gilbert Blythe.” 

A tiny, lovesick chuckle escaped his lips before he could hold it back. In seconds, Anne was wrapped in his arms, her face buried into his neck where he smelled so comfortingly like home that she couldn’t help but grin. The slightness of her frame fit against the strength of his arms and shoulders, and suddenly, Anne forgot all the consequences of refusing to let him go. 

“Anne,” Gilbert murmured in her ear.  

“Hmm?” 

He shivered as her fingers trailed down his back through his nightshirt. 

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you. Believe me when I swear to you it won’t happen again.” 

Anne pulled back just enough to rest her forehead to his. 

“I’m the one that hurt you,” Anne said quietly. “Can you forgive me for that too?”

Gilbert kissed her brow, then tucked her back into his embrace.  

"It's water under the bridge."

Later that night, Anne was wrapped in the cozy blankets of his bed, engulfed in his scent and warmed by his presence in the doorway as he took his last looks of her. For a moment, Gilbert allowed himself the briefest of daydreams - one where he was a doctor disappearing into the night to take care of a patient and Anne was his sleepy wife bidding him goodnight. But instead of whispering her tender farewell, she said, “Wouldn’t you be warmer if you slept here?” 

“I already told you, I won’t let you sleep on the sofa. It’s entirely too uncomfortable.”

“I meant , wouldn’t you be warmer if you slept here... with me,” Anne said shyly, propping herself up on her elbow. 

Gilbert swallowed. The only thing he loved more than a good night’s rest was spending time with Anne. Combine the two and the offer was far too alluring for him to pass up. He muttered a soft Alright before blowing out the last candle and sitting on the bed’s edge opposite of Anne. She lifted the blankets for him, tucking them around his shoulders when he settled down into the soft mattress. Her familiar warmth began its work easing away the last traces of his troubled heart until nothing was left but the gentleness of her presence and the faint scent of her soap. He reached out and folded their fingers together, kissing them, before settling them on the pillow between them. 

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered. 

“Goodnight, my love,” Anne mirrored. 

The creaking sounds of the old house singing its night time lullabies lulled them to sleep, but sweeter yet was the faint breathing on the neighboring pillow and their gentle shared dream.

****

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