𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ~ 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐲-𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven:
Dear Anne... Love, Mabel
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"You're so pretty." Anne grinned, taking a strand of Mabel's hair between her fingers.

Mabel blushed, laughing as she rested her hand against Anne's cheek. "But you're the beautiful one."

Anne grinned, her cheeks flushing a deep red color, "You believe that I'm the beautiful one? Have you seen yourself?"

"I don't believe it, Anne, I know it. You're the most beautiful girl in the whole world, Anne." Mabel gently rubbed her thumb against her cheek. "And I love you, more than anything."

Anne grinned, "Why, why, why, I love you too!"

Mabel's heart burst with joy as her eyes welled up with tears, "Re-Really? You mean it?"

Anne giggled, "I do. I mean it. I, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert love thee, Mabel Barnes."

"And I, Mabel Barnes, love thee, Anne, with an 'E', Shirley-Cuthbert." Mabel repeated, unable to hide the grin from forming on her face.

Anne leaned forward slowly, pressing her lips against Mabel's.

Mabel's free hand trailed up to her cheek while Anne's hands fell into her shoulders, gripping the puffed sleeves of Mabel's purple dress.

Mabel shot out of bed, breathing heavily. Her face red from the blushing. She looked out the window, deciphering that it was around two or so AM, based on the moon's placement in the night sky.

Mabel sighed, running her hands through her hair. "This simply must stop, really." 

That was the third time she'd had that dream about Anne. This week.

Mabel didn't know what to do. She didn't want to like Anne in that way anymore. It was too hard. It was too hard to like Anne knowing that she'd never have a chance with her. Knowing that Anne would never love her.

It broke her heart everytime she thought of it. She didn't wanna be hurt any more than she already would be.

She wished there was a way she could get her feelings out. She'd usually tell her brother or Ruby Gillis, but she couldn't tell either of them.

She couldn't tell anyone. The only one who knew she was even who she was is Aunt Josephine.. and Mabel certainly couldn't go to her every time she had her heart broken.

She couldn't tell Anne, for obvious reasons. She couldn't tell anyone, and that scared her. Was she to just suffer in silence for the remainder of her life?

No, she didn't want that. To pine after an unattainable girl for years and years and years?

No, she couldn't imagine herself doing that. Her heart being broken every time she saw Anne happy and in love with another when all she craved was for Anne to look at her like that.. for Anne to love her like that.

Unfortunately, Anne wasn't like Mabel or Aunt Josephine. No, Mabel liked boys. Anne didn't like girls!

Suddenly, she was hit with an idea. If she couldn't tell someone in her life, she'd tell something. Mabel would write her feelings down on paper and then she'd go to the brooke where she'd read it to mother nature.

How romantical! Anne, if she ever found them, would surely love the idea.

"I should write a letter!" She harshly whispered to herself, tossing the covers over herself.

Mabel tiptoed over to her bookshelf and pulled out a blank piece of paper from her stack.

She lit her oil lamp and quietly placed it beside the window sill on her desk. Seating herself quietly at the desk, she picked up her pen. She dipped her pen in the ink and pressed it against the paper.

Though, she didn't know what to say. Or where to start. Or anything about what to say.

She knew for sure that she'd never let Anne see these. Mabel knew she'd have to die before she gave Anne a clue that they even existed.

Thousands of thoughts ran wild through Mabel's head, and she had no idea if any of them even fully processed.

Her hand rested against the piece of paper, the ink creating a splotch from being left stationary.

Her eyes turned up to the moon, hoping to get inspiration from her.

"Oh, Mrs. moon.. How I long to be as free as you." Mabel spoke, her eyes glistening from the shining the moon gave off. "I wonder what it's like to be you.."

Mabel sighed, placing her chin against her palm as she stared at the stars.

That's when it hit her. She knew exactly what to write.

"Thank you, Mrs. Moon." She thanked, feeling as if the moon could almost hear her understand her, and was saying "You're Welcome.". Mabel knew that it wasn't helpful, but that didn't stop her from feeling hopeful.

Mabel turned her eyes toward her paper and began to write.

For Anne,
The One With Flames For Hair

You may never read this, or even know of its existence, but I simply must write it. I simply must write until my feelings for you fade away like the flowers in the cold, bitter autum months.

But you? You are not cold. You are not bitter like autumn. No,
Anne, you are warm. Warm like the summer days. Bright like the summer's sun that I so desperately long for.

I so desperately long for you, Anne.
My heart aches knowing that I will never have you.
That I will never feel your touch against my skin, warming my heart during the bitterly cold nights.
That you will never see me as I see you. I see you, Anne, but you don't see me.

Maybe one day, one day when I've long ago faded back into the ground, you'll read my letters to you and know. You'll know that I love you so.

But for now, I wait patiently for my love for you to fade.

Love, Mabel
The One Who Longs For The Girl With Flames For Hair.

Mabel folded the letter, pressing a kiss against it before standing up. She blew out her candle and slowly walked over to her bookshelf.

Her fingers brushed against the books until she pulls her favorite out, the one that Anne gave her. A Jane Eyre novel.

She flipped to a page before placing the letter in and shutting it with a snap. She placed it on the bookshelf before crawling back into bed with only one thought on her mind.

The one with flames for hair.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

{ Word Count: 1111 }

{ A/n: brought to you by my friends all liking each other more than me :) yay also when she can write stories but not letters or poetry that she based an entire fic on*heart eyes* }

{ Edited: No }