𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦 ; shirbert oneshots

6

WE'LL MEET AGAIN
( gilbert )

SNOW had covered the boat's deck almost completely. It had settled on every possible surface, including Gilbert, who was absolutely freezing. The boy shivered and blew hot air into his gloveless hands as he stared out to sea. He was close, and the anticipation of going back home to Avonlea was enough to keep him from dying of cold. The boat rocked from side to side in a hypnotising way, not in the way that makes one queasy.

Gilbert wondered what would be different. It was almost Christmas again, which marked a year since he'd left Avonlea. A year since his father died, and a year since he'd seen a certain red haired girl. As they neared land, an overwhelming sense of dread washed over Gilbert. What if everything had changed? What if Anne had grown up and was no longer interested in the imagination? What if he had been gone long enough for everyone to forget about him?

"Are you getting off?" A man yelled from behind, taking the boy by surprise.

"Oh, sorry Sir," Gilbert said politely.

He would have liked to have said that as soon as his feet touched the land, the dread faded away, but it still remained there. Maybe he hadn't seen enough of the world yet. Surely a year isn't enough time to properly explore? It's too late to turn back, he told himself.

. . .

Opening the door to his house for the first time in a year was a strange feeling. The furniture was shrouded by white cloths, just as he'd left it, but layers of dust hadn't in fact settled on the windowsill or on the table. This was strange, Gilbert thought. The boy shook his head and sighed. He was being paranoid.

When he was going up to his room he felt something crunch under his foot. Looking down, he saw a dead blossom branch with shrivelled up leaves and a mangled stem. Gilbert picked it up and smelled it. Anne, He thought. This was the same blossom they had at the Cuthbert's, he was sure. She'd been there. That was weird.

The sound of the door opening and closing downstairs startled Gilbert enough to make him drop the blossom. He furrowed his brows. Was he being robbed? Maybe, but it was broad daylight. That wasn't strange, though, since everyone in Avonlea (including it's robbers) knew of his travels.

The boy's soft brown eyes darted around the room looking for a stick or something to use in self defence but his room was completely covered by white sheets. His mind wandered back to when he'd punched Billy Andrews in the mouth. Whoever was downstairs might be stronger or weaker than the bully had been, but it was all he had. Gilbert readied his fists and carefully padded down the stairs.

The boy's mouth dropped open at what he saw. There was no robber, just Anne Shirley-Cuthbert dusting his hallway thoroughly. She hadn't noticed him, so Gilbert stood silently for a few seconds on the stairs.

"Anne? Is that you?" He asked, knowing full well who it was.

The girl looked up, her blue eyes wide and her hands gripped firmly on the feather duster.

"Gilbert! You're back!" Anne gasped, quickly moving the duster behind her back even though he'd clearly seen it already.

"What are you doing in my house? I thought I was being robbed," he said, furrowing his brows.

Suddenly, he remembered earlier when he'd just come in and noticed the lack of dust. Had Anne been cleaning his house?

"I've been cleaning your house," she admitted, looking at her feet.

Anne looked different since he'd last seen her. Her hair was a touch longer and had darkened in colour. She was no longer 'Carrots', as he had called her that first day at school, no, her hair was auburn. Just like she'd hoped.

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, since you've gone, there's been a shortage of blossoms on the tree outside my window," Anne explained.

"So you clean my house?" Gilbert asked skeptically. "I'm not sure I see the connection."

"I'm getting to that, if you'll be patient," Anne glared a little, which made Gilbert more nostalgic than ever. It was good to see her, even if it was after she'd broken into his house. "Green Gables in its winter months is not the flowery bower that it used to be, so I come here. To keep your house clean."

"But there's a blossom upstairs in my room," Gilbert said. "Did you leave that there?"

"I did, once in the summer," she admitted. "It was just such a pretty one, and I hoped if you came back soon then you could appreciate it too."

Gilbert felt a smile from in his lips. She had missed him while he was away.

"Okay, how did you get in?" He asked. The door showed no signs of struggle or forced entry.

"There's a spare key lodged in between two bricks outside," she said guiltily. "It was only at matter of time before I found it."

Gilbert was full on grinning now. It was like he'd never left.