Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?!" Anne exclaimed upon witnessing her boyfriend Roy gardener inside of some blonde bitch,

"Anne, baby, you had to know that this was coming, I mean your not much to look at," Roy laughed,

Anne stood frozen, her face turning crimson with rage, her fists clenched at her sides. "I knew you were a piece of shit, but this?" Her voice trembled with fury. "You really thought you could just disrespect me like this, Roy?"

Roy barely looked at her, too busy with the blonde on the bed, a smug smirk still plastered on his face. "You're just not what I need, Anne. You're always so clingy, so... predictable. I need something more exciting, you know?" He sneered, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Anne's chest heaved with each breath, feeling her heart shatter under the weight of his words. "Exciting? You call this exciting?" She scoffed, turning on her heel to leave, but her emotions were a whirlwind, each step heavier than the last.

Before she could reach the door, the blonde girl—clearly caught up in the moment—smirked at Anne. "You should’ve known he was never gonna be loyal, honey."

Anne paused, her back to them, and then shot a glance over her shoulder, her voice low but filled with venom. "You don't even know the half of it. I'm done with both of you."

With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her, the sound echoing in the empty hallway, marking the end of that chapter of her life.

----

"I can't believe he would betray me like this. It's as if all those years we spent together meant nothing," Anne sobbed, her voice trembling as she took a long sip from the glass in front of her. The drink—a potent mix of spirits—tasted sharp and bitter, but she welcomed the burn as a distraction from the emotional pain she felt.

Diana, sitting beside her, gently placed a reassuring hand on Anne’s shoulder, trying to provide comfort amidst the chaos of her friend's heartbreak. "It's okay, Anne. You just need to show him that he's made a big mistake," she said, her tone steady and supportive, despite the urgency in her gaze.

"Exactly! You need to let him see what he’s really lost," Ruby chimed in, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to the somber mood. She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with determination. "You have so much to offer, and if he can't appreciate that, then he doesn't deserve you at all!"

Taking a deep breath, Anne's expression shifted from despair to resolve. "I think I know what I need to do," she declared, her voice clearer as she raised her glass to finish the remaining drink, the alcohol fueling a newfound sense of purpose within her.

--------

Gilbert was seated at his cluttered desk, piles of medical textbooks surrounding him, their spines cracked and pages marked with colorful sticky notes. The dim light from his desk lamp flickered slightly, casting shadows that danced across the walls lined with diagrams of human anatomy. Suddenly, a soft but firm knock interrupted his concentration. As he pushed back his chair and stood up, he opened the door, only to be taken aback by the sight before him.

There stood Anne, swaying slightly on the threshold, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and inebriation. Her hair was somewhat disheveled, strands falling haphazardly across her face, and the smell of alcohol wafted toward him like an unexpected gust of wind.

“Anne?” Gilbert questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Blythe!” she exclaimed, her words tumbling out in a delightful slur. “I need you to go out with me!” Her serious expression clashed hilariously with her unsteady stance, making it difficult for him to take her request seriously.

“What?! I—What do you mean?” he stammered, caught off guard by the suddenness of her proposition.

To truly grasp the absurdity of this request, there are a few key insights you need to have first…

Anne has never been particularly fond of Gilbert Blythe, when they first met he called her carrots and she hit him across the face with her history text book. but that was a trivial matter, 13 year old nonsense that had long since been forgotten. what had really cemented gilbert as a villain in annes story happened in their junior year of highschool when Anne had first started dating roy. she was never particularly close with roy, but they met at a party and hit it off, he was popular and her romantic ideal. he was nice, sending her flowers and writing her poems. one day he showed up to school with a black eye that he blamed gilbert for. Anne never knew why gilbert had punched him, and gilbert refused to tell her, only saying that he deserved it and she should be grateful as well as insisting she break up with him every chance he got, from then on Anne decided that gilbert was a conceited dick who thought he knew what was best for everyone.

but now in her second year at Redmond college she stood in front of gilbert asking him to go out with her?

"your drunk," Gilbert stated,

"damn right!" Anne giggled

Gilbert ran his fingers through his hair, as much as he wanted to slam the door in her face he couldn't, she's a 19 year old woman whos clearly inebriated.

"ugh come in you need to lie down." Gilbert sighed.

Anne stumbled into Gilbert's tiny dorm room, wobbling slightly as she crossed the threshold. The faint smell of coffee and old books filled the air, a stark contrast to the nightclub atmosphere she'd left just an hour ago. She flopped onto his neatly made bed without hesitation, spreading out as if she owned the place.

Gilbert shut the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh. "Anne, what are you doing here? You don’t even like me, remember?"

Anne waved her hand dismissively, her fingers grazing the air. "Pfft. That was before tonight. Before Roy—ugh, Roy—turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life." She groaned dramatically, burying her face into his pillow. "And now, you’re my plan, Blythe."

"Plan?" he echoed, moving cautiously toward her. "What kind of plan are we talking about here?"

She lifted her head, her fiery hair fanning out like a halo. Her hazel eyes, glassy from the alcohol, met his. "The kind where you and I fake date, and I show that bastard Roy what he missed out on." She grinned, a tipsy, almost childlike satisfaction in her expression. "It's genius, right?"

Gilbert let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Genius? No. Insane? Absolutely. And there’s no way I’m getting involved in your drama."

Anne sat up abruptly, the sudden motion making her sway slightly. "Oh, come on, Blythe!" she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "You’re perfect for this. You’re smart, good-looking, and—ugh—infuriating. Roy will totally believe I’d move on with you." She jabbed a finger toward him as if to underline her point.

Gilbert crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "Anne, this isn’t some high school revenge plot. You’re better than this. Why don’t you focus on yourself instead of trying to make Roy jealous?"

Anne blinked at him, and for a moment, her drunken haze seemed to clear. "Because I gave him everything," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I gave him everything, and he threw it away like it was nothing. I just… I need to feel like I have control over something. Even if it’s stupid."

Gilbert’s stance softened. He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Anne, you don’t need him—or me—to prove your worth. But you do need to sober up." He grabbed a bottle of water from his desk and handed it to her.

Anne accepted it begrudgingly, taking a small sip. "So that’s a no to fake dating?"

"Hard no," Gilbert said firmly, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"Fine," she muttered, flopping back onto his bed. "But you’re not kicking me out tonight. This bed is comfy."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, grabbing a blanket from the chair. "You’re lucky I’m not heartless," he said, draping it over her. "But don’t think this means I’m getting involved in your revenge schemes."

Anne mumbled something incoherent, already drifting off to sleep. Gilbert sat back down at his desk, shaking his head as he glanced at her peaceful, albeit slightly ridiculous, form.

"Why do I always end up tangled in your messes, Anne Shirley?" he muttered to himself, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

----

Anne awoke with a relentless pounding in her head, a harsh reminder of the excesses of the previous night. As she blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains, she attempted to piece together the fragments of her memories. Confusion swirled around her like fog, leaving her disoriented as she scanned the unfamiliar room, struggling to recall why she was here in the first place. Suddenly, the events of the night before crashed over her like a wave, sharp and invasive, and she groaned deeply into her plush pillow, wishing for the comfort of oblivion once more.

Glancing at the bedside table, her eyes landed on a small bottle of painkillers next to a cool glass of water. With a sense of gratitude mixed with reluctance, she reached for the pills, dry swallowing them without thinking too much about who had left them there, unsure if ignorance was a blessing or a curse.

After a few minutes of steadying herself, Anne gathered her wits and pushed herself out of bed. The remnants of her outfit from the night before clung to her, slightly rumpled and smelling faintly of whatever perfume she had chosen to wear. Her hair was a wild mess, tousled and chaotic, a stark contrast to her usual organized appearance. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, and stepped cautiously out of the bedroom.

As she ventured into the adjoining room, she spotted Gilbert seated at a desk, the morning light casting a soft glow around him. He cradled a steaming mug of coffee in his hands, seemingly lost in thought but alert, a stark image of calm in the midst of her chaos. The sight of him brought a mixture of relief, anger and anxiety—she felt both comforted and unsure of what would come next.

"Morning," Gilbert said without turning around, his tone annoyingly neutral. "There’s coffee if you want it."

Anne hesitated, her mouth dry and her pride even drier. “Uh… thanks,” she muttered, awkwardly shuffling to the counter where a fresh pot sat waiting. She poured herself a cup, wincing slightly at the clinking of the mug against the counter.

"Rough night?" Gilbert asked, still not looking at her, though his voice carried a hint of amusement.

Anne glared at the back of his head. "You could say that." She took a cautious sip of the coffee, the bitterness jolting her senses awake. "Did I… uh, do anything stupid?"

Gilbert finally turned in his chair, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Oh, you mean other than showing up at my door drunk off your ass, ranting about Roy, and then demanding we fake date? Nah, nothing too crazy."

Anne nearly choked on her coffee. "I what?"

"You heard me." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You came here with some grand plan to make Roy jealous. Apparently, I’m supposed to be your fake boyfriend because I’m… what was it? Smart, good-looking, and infuriating?"

Anne’s cheeks burned as the memories of last night trickled back, each one more humiliating than the last. "Oh my god," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Please tell me you didn’t take me seriously."

"Don’t worry," Gilbert said dryly. "I told you it was a terrible idea."

Anne peeked at him through her fingers. "But you didn’t kick me out?"

He shrugged. "You were in no condition to be anywhere but asleep. Besides, I’m not completely heartless." He stood, brushing past her to refill his own mug. "But just so we’re clear, my answer is still no."

Anne straightened, clutching her mug like a lifeline. "Wait. Why not?"

Gilbert turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re kidding, right? You and I don’t even get along. And even if we did, this whole scheme is childish. Roy isn’t worth your time—or mine."

Anne’s jaw tightened. "It’s not just about Roy. It’s about me proving that I’m not some predictable, boring girl who gets walked all over. I’m sick of being underestimated."

Gilbert sighed, setting his mug down on the counter. "Anne, you don’t need a fake relationship to prove that. Just move on. Be happy without him."

Anne shook her head, her fiery hair bouncing with the motion. "You don’t get it, Blythe. I need this. I need to show him that I’m not the person he thinks I am. And I need your help to do it."

Gilbert studied her for a long moment, his brow furrowing as if he was weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he spoke. "You’re really not going to drop this, are you?"

"Nope," Anne said firmly, her hazel eyes blazing with determination. "You might think it’s stupid, but I know it’ll work. And whether you like it or not, you’re the best option I’ve got."

Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'Why me?' He glanced at her, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. But only on one condition."

"Name it," Anne said eagerly.

"You don’t get to boss me around or make this harder than it needs to be," he said. "If I’m doing this, it’s on my terms."

Anne grinned, holding out her hand to shake on it. "Deal."

As Gilbert reluctantly took her hand, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if agreeing to this was the dumbest decision he’d ever made—or if it was just the beginning of something he couldn’t yet comprehend.

Chapter Text

“We need a backstory if this is going to work,” Gilbert said, his voice calm but firm, as he leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. The early morning light streamed through the thin dorm curtains, casting soft shadows across the room.

Anne, sitting cross-legged on Gilbert’s bed, was still reeling from the events of the night before. Her hair was a mess, her face bare of makeup, and the hoodie she’d borrowed from Gilbert was too big, nearly swallowing her. Despite the exhaustion in her eyes, her determination was clear. She twirled a pen in her fingers, her notebook open in front of her.

“A backstory?” she echoed, her voice raspy. “What, like, ‘we fell madly in love at first sight’ or something equally ridiculous?”

Gilbert gave her a flat look. “If you want this to be believable—if you really want to convince Roy and everyone else—we need to agree on the details. People are going to ask questions.”

Anne sighed, slumping forward. “You know, I wasn’t expecting my fake relationship to come with homework, Blythe.”

“Well, you roped in the wrong person if you thought I’d half-ass it,” he shot back, smirking slightly. “So? What’s the story? Because ‘Anne stormed into my dorm at midnight and begged me to fake date her to make her ex jealous’ isn’t exactly convincing.”

Anne groaned, rubbing her temples. The memories of Roy’s betrayal still felt raw—walking in on him, the smug look on his face, his dismissive words. “God, this is so stupid,” she muttered under her breath.

“It is stupid,” Gilbert agreed, making her shoot him a glare. “But you’re the one who wanted my help.”

“Fine!” she snapped, sitting up straighter. “How about this: you saw me at the library, and… sparks flew?” She waved her hands dramatically as if conjuring an image of their fictional romance.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “Sparks flew? Really?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Anne said defensively. “People eat that kind of stuff up.”

Gilbert shook his head, his lips twitching as though he were trying not to laugh. “Alright, fine. We’ll say we saw each other at the library,” Gilbert repeated, jotting it down in his notebook. “Fine. How did we ‘hit is off’?”

“You found me sobbing over some stupid romantic poetry book or something.” Anne said

Gilbert gave her a skeptical look. “You crying in the library? I don’t buy it.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t crying,” she amended quickly. “Maybe I was… I don’t know, looking for a book. Something academic. Something boring,” she added pointedly.

“Wow,” Gilbert said dryly. “You’re really selling this.”

“Shut up,” Anne muttered, throwing a pillow at him, which he caught with ease. “Fine, we’ll say I was working on an essay, and you—being the insufferable know-it-all that you are—offered to help.”

“That does sound like me,” Gilbert admitted, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Anne rolled her eyes. “Anyway, we started talking, realized we didn’t hate each other as much as we thought, and… boom, romance.”

“Boom, romance,” Gilbert repeated, deadpan. “Yeah, that’s believable.”

Anne smirked. “It’s a better love story than anything Roy ever gave me.”

At the mention of Roy, the air in the room grew heavier. Anne’s smirk faltered, and she glanced down at her hands. Gilbert’s expression softened as he watched her.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to prove anything to him.”

Anne looked up at him, her eyes fierce despite the hurt lingering there. “I do, though. Not just to him—to myself. I need him to see what he threw away. I need me to see it.”

Gilbert studied her for a moment, then sighed. “Alright. Let’s keep going. What about our first date?”

Anne’s face lit up, the spark of determination reigniting. “Easy. You took me to that tiny coffee shop on Main Street. You know, the one with the overpriced cappuccinos and terrible open mic nights.”

Gilbert tilted his head. “That actually sounds plausible.”

“See? I’m good at this,” Anne said, grinning.

Gilbert rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop his own small smile from forming. “Alright. Coffee shop first date. But we need more than that. Favorite things about each other. What do we tell people when they ask why we like each other?”

Anne paused, the question catching her off guard. “Uh…” She floundered for a moment. “I… like that you’re smart?” She winced as she said it, like the compliment physically hurt her.

“Wow, Anne,” Gilbert said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t overwhelm me with the flattery.”

“Fine!” Anne said, huffing. “I like that you’re… reliable. And that you’re not a total idiot, which is more than I can say for most people.”

Gilbert snorted, shaking his head. “Thanks, I think.” He tapped his pen against the notebook. “For you, I’ll say… I like that you’re passionate about everything. Even when it’s infuriating.”

Anne blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in his voice. She quickly masked it with a smirk. “See? You’re already getting into character.”

“I’m starting to regret this already,” Gilbert muttered, but his tone lacked bite.

Anne leaned forward, grinning. “Oh, come on, Blythe. Admit it—you’re having fun.”

He glanced at her, her eyes alight with energy, and sighed. “You’re going to be the death of me, Anne Shirley.”

Her grin widened. “That’s the spirit!”

—-

---

The sound of Gilbert’s pen scratching against the notebook filled the room as the two of them worked out the finer details of their fabricated love story. Anne’s energy was a whirlwind, and though Gilbert would never admit it out loud, her determination was almost infectious.

“Okay,” Gilbert said, holding up the notebook like it was a sacred text. “We’ve got how we met, our first date, and our favorite things about each other. But if we’re really going to sell this, we need one more thing.”

Anne raised an eyebrow. “What? Matching outfits? A shared Spotify playlist?”

“Photos,” Gilbert said simply.

“Photos?” Anne repeated, blinking.

“People are going to ask for proof,” he explained, shrugging. “They’ll want to see pictures of us together. You can’t fake date someone in this day and age without some receipts.”

Anne groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “I didn’t sign up for a photoshoot.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Gilbert said, smirking, “I happen to be photogenic.”

Anne rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Alright, fine. Where do we start?”

Gilbert tilted his head, thinking. “We’ll need something casual first. Like a selfie at the coffee shop. Then maybe something more intimate. Something that says, ‘Wow, these two are disgustingly in love.’”

Anne shot him a look. “Disgustingly in love?”

“You wanted this to be convincing, right?” Gilbert asked, smirking at her discomfort.

“Fine,” she muttered, sitting up and running her fingers through her tangled hair. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. None of that awkward, ‘we’re standing five feet apart’ nonsense.”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “You sure you can handle that, Shirley? I thought you hated my guts.”

“I do,” Anne said, glaring at him. “But I hate Roy more.”

“Fair enough,” Gilbert said, laughing softly. He stood and grabbed his phone from the desk. “Let’s get this over with.”

---

They started with a staged coffee shop selfie. Gilbert insisted they sit close enough to look “believable,” which resulted in Anne elbowing him every time his shoulder brushed hers. The barista, clearly intrigued by the awkward duo, offered to take a picture for them, which Gilbert accepted before Anne could refuse.

The result was a candid shot of them laughing mid-banter, Anne’s fiery hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window. Gilbert held out the phone to show her, and even she had to admit it looked… authentic.

“Not bad,” Anne admitted reluctantly. “Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Gilbert said dryly.

---

Back in Gilbert’s dorm, the real challenge began.

“Alright,” Anne said, pacing the room like a general planning an attack. “We need at least one picture that makes people stop and think, ‘Wow, they’re actually into each other.’”

Gilbert leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. “And how exactly do you propose we do that?”

Anne stopped pacing, her gaze locking with his. “We… uh…” She faltered, suddenly aware of how close they were. “Maybe something like… a hand-holding thing?”

“Hand-holding,” Gilbert repeated, unimpressed. “Yeah, that’s real groundbreaking.”

Anne groaned, throwing her hands up. “Well, excuse me for not being a professional fake dater, Blythe!”

Gilbert shook his head, his lips twitching with amusement. “Come here.”

Anne hesitated, then crossed the room until she stood in front of him. Gilbert reached out, gently taking her hand in his. His fingers were warm and calloused, and the casual intimacy of the gesture caught Anne off guard. He raised his phone with his free hand, angling it to capture the moment.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Anne glanced up at him, her breath hitching slightly when their eyes met. Gilbert snapped the picture, his expression unreadable.

“There,” he said, pulling back and showing her the photo.

Anne stared at it, her heart doing a strange flip. The photo was perfect—her hand in his, her gaze soft, his expression open and almost… fond. It was everything they needed to sell their story, but something about it felt almost too real.

“That’ll work,” she said quickly, stepping back. “Good job, partner.”

Gilbert’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. It’ll work.”

---

As Anne left his dorm later that day, armed with their carefully constructed backstory and a handful of photos, she felt a strange mix of triumph and unease. She had everything she needed to pull this off, but as she replayed their interactions in her mind, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was playing with fire.

Gilbert, meanwhile, sat at his desk, scrolling through the pictures they’d taken. He stopped on the one of them holding hands, his thumb hovering over the screen. With a sigh, he set the phone down and leaned back in his chair.

“This is going to be a disaster,” he muttered to himself.

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to regret agreeing to it.

Chapter Text

The bowling alley buzzed with energy—crashing pins, bursts of laughter, and faint pop music floating through the air. Neon lights danced across the glossy lanes, giving the place a playful, almost magical atmosphere. Anne clutched her shoe rental ticket in one hand, the other wrapped firmly around Gilbert’s.

“You’re squeezing my hand like we’re walking into battle,” Gilbert murmured, leaning close enough that Anne could feel his breath against her ear.

“I feel like we are,” she hissed back, shooting him a glare.

He smirked, that annoyingly confident smirk he always wore when he knew he had the upper hand. “Relax. Remember, we're madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

Anne whipped her head toward him, her face flaming. “Excuse me?”

Gilbert just winked and handed their shoe slips to the attendant. “You heard me,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Before she could formulate a response—preferably a scathing one—they were headed toward their group, where Diana, Ruby, Moody, and Fred were already gathered near one of the lanes.

“Anne! Gilbert!” Diana waved enthusiastically, her grin widening when she noticed their joined hands. Ruby, on the other hand, gawked as if they’d walked in wearing matching wedding rings.

Fred and Moody looked up from where they were fiddling with the scoring screen. Fred raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. “Well, this is new.”

“Very new,” Moody added, tilting his head as if trying to puzzle something out.

Anne forced a bright smile, willing herself not to glance at Roy, who was at a lane a few rows down with his friends. Instead, she tightened her grip on Gilbert’s hand and leaned into his side slightly. “What can I say? Life’s full of surprises.”

“Surprises?” Ruby’s eyes were practically sparkling as she stared at their hands. “This is a shock, Anne! I mean, Gilbert Blythe? Really?”

“Careful, Ruby,” Gilbert teased, his tone light. “I might take offense to that.”

Anne laughed—a bit too loudly—and nudged him with her elbow. “Ignore her. She’s just jealous.”

Ruby gasped, but before she could launch into a defense, Diana clapped her hands. “Okay, okay! Let’s not scare them off with the third degree. Let’s bowl!”

As everyone shuffled to put on their rental shoes and set up the game, Anne felt Gilbert’s hand brush her lower back. It was subtle, but the small gesture steadied her nerves.

“You’re doing great,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Anne rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched. “Of course I am. I’m an excellent actress.”

“And modest, too,” Gilbert said with a grin.

Fred and Moody, who’d been watching the exchange from the scoring bench, exchanged a glance.

“She’s definitely keeping him on his toes,” Moody muttered to Fred.

Fred smirked. “I’d pay to see how long this lasts.”

The game began, with Diana insisting she go first. She managed to knock down a respectable seven pins, earning cheers from the group. Anne followed, her first attempt spiraling straight into the gutter.

“Impressive,” Gilbert teased as he stepped up for his turn.

“Oh, shut up,” Anne muttered, sinking onto the bench.

She watched as Gilbert effortlessly knocked down a strike, the pins scattering with a loud crash. He turned back toward her, his grin smug.

“See? This is why you needed me. I make us look good.”

Anne grabbed a nearby napkin and tossed it at him. “Don’t let it go to your head, Blythe.”

Fred laughed. “Too late for that. His ego’s been out of control since fifth grade.”

“Not true,” Gilbert shot back, sitting down beside Anne. “I’ve been perfectly humble since… sixth grade.”

The group dissolved into laughter, the easy banter helping to dispel some of the tension Anne had felt earlier. But every now and then, she caught Roy glancing their way, his expression unreadable.

When it was her turn again, Gilbert stood behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Relax your grip,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Anne tried to ignore the warmth of his hands and the way his breath tickled her ear. “If you’re going to mansplain bowling to me—”

“I’m just helping my girlfriend,” he interrupted, the word rolling off his tongue with an ease that sent her heart stumbling.

Girlfriend. Right. This was all fake.

She inhaled deeply and rolled the ball. It veered slightly but managed to knock down five pins.

“Not bad,” Gilbert said, stepping back with a smirk.

Anne turned to him, crossing her arms. “See? I’m perfectly capable without your help.”

“Sure you are,” he said, holding her gaze a moment longer than necessary.

By the time the game ended, the group was in high spirits. Diana had managed a surprising second place, with Gilbert taking first (to no one’s surprise) and Anne solidly in last.

As they packed up to leave, Fred clapped Gilbert on the back. “Well, Blythe, I’ll admit I didn’t see this coming, but… you two actually make sense.”

“Thanks, Fred,” Gilbert said with a grin. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Moody snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Anne lingered near the exit, stealing one last glance at Roy. He was laughing with his friends, but there was something in his posture—a stiffness, a tension—that made her lips twitch into a small, satisfied smile.

As they stepped into the chilly night air, Gilbert leaned closer, his voice soft. “Not bad for our first performance, huh?”

Anne tilted her head up to look at him, her smirk returning. “You were decent, I guess.”

He chuckled, sliding his hand into hers as they walked. “Don’t forget, Anne. You’re allowed to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her cheeks gave her away. “You’re impossible, Blythe.”

“And yet, you can’t resist me.”

Anne’s laughter echoed into the night as they disappeared into the glow of the streetlights.

---

As the group exited the bowling alley, the crisp night air greeted them, their breath visible in soft puffs under the streetlights. Ruby, always the planner, clapped her hands together with a burst of enthusiasm.

“Okay, so!” she began, spinning on her heel to face the group. “This night is way too short to end here. How about dinner? It’s the perfect chance for us to—” she wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, “—grill Anne and Gilbert about their relationship.”

Anne groaned inwardly, though she forced a polite smile. “That’s really not—”

“Great idea,” Gilbert interrupted smoothly, his hand still warm in hers. “I mean, if we’re trying to convince everyone we’re madly in love, why not let them ask whatever they want?” He whispered to anne as he shot her a playful look that only made her glare in return.

Diana beamed. “That’s perfect! There’s that Italian place down the street—Amico’s? It’s cozy and not too expensive.”

Ruby gasped, linking her arm with Diana’s. “Yes! Their spaghetti carbonara is to die for. Let’s go!”

Fred, who had been watching the exchange with a lazy grin, raised a hand. “I’m in. Can’t miss the spectacle of Anne and Blythe pretending not to hate each other.”

“Who’s pretending?” Moody muttered, earning a snicker from Fred.

Anne tugged on Gilbert’s arm as the group began walking toward the restaurant. “Why didn’t you shut that down?” she whispered, her voice low but edged with panic.

“Why would I?” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. “It’s the perfect opportunity to make this convincing.”

“Or to watch me squirm,” she muttered darkly.

He smirked. “Maybe a little of both.”

---

The restaurant was small and dimly lit, the kind of place where candles flickered in glass jars and soft music played just loud enough to create ambiance. The group crammed into a booth meant for six, with Anne squished between Gilbert and Diana.

As menus were passed around, Ruby wasted no time launching into her interrogation. “So, how long has this been a thing?”

Anne opened her mouth, but Gilbert beat her to it. “A few weeks,” he said easily, draping an arm over the back of the booth behind Anne.

“A few weeks?” Ruby’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“We wanted to keep it… private,” Anne said, forcing a shy smile. “At least at first.”

“Aw,” Diana cooed. “That’s kind of romantic.”

Fred leaned back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “What I want to know is how it started. You two have been sniping at each other since forever.”

Gilbert glanced at Anne, a playful glint in his eyes. “Library,” he said simply.

Anne nodded, picking up the thread. “Yeah, I was working on an essay, and… well, Gilbert offered to help.”

Ruby frowned, tilting her head. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”

Anne felt her stomach tighten, but Gilbert swooped in without missing a beat. “It wasn’t, at first. But we started talking, and it just… clicked.”

There was a pause as Ruby studied them, her sharp gaze flicking between their faces. Anne braced herself for more questions, but Diana saved her by changing the subject.

“That’s so cute,” Diana said, smiling dreamily. “It’s like one of those rom-coms where the leads don’t realize they’re perfect for each other until halfway through.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Something like that.”

As the conversation shifted to the menu and the group’s shared love of Italian food, Anne allowed herself to relax slightly. But then Ruby leaned across the table, her expression far too curious.

“Okay, but what’s your favorite thing about each other?”

Anne’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. “Uh…”

“I’ll go first,” Gilbert said smoothly, completely unfazed. He turned to Anne, his gaze softening just enough to make her stomach flip. “I like how passionate she is about everything. Whether she’s arguing with me about something stupid or defending something she loves, she’s all in. It’s…” He hesitated, his lips quirking into a smile. “It’s inspiring.”

The table fell quiet, and Anne stared at him, her heart thudding a little too loudly.

Ruby sighed dramatically, clutching her chest. “Oh my God, that’s so sweet.”

“Your turn, Anne,” Fred said, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Anne swallowed hard, shooting Gilbert a look that promised retribution before forcing a smile. “Well, I like that Gilbert is… reliable. He’s always there when you need him. Even when he’s being insufferable, you can count on him.”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll take it.”

Ruby sighed again, and even Moody seemed to be hiding a grin.

As the group dug into their meals, Anne couldn’t help but glance at Gilbert out of the corner of her eye. He caught her looking and leaned closer, his voice low.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.

“And yet, here we are,” he said, his smirk firmly in place.

Anne shook her head, but her lips twitched into a reluctant smile. Maybe, just maybe, she could survive this dinner without completely losing her mind.

The warm, comforting buzz of the restaurant was interrupted as Anne caught sight of Roy entering with a few of his frat brothers. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Of all the restaurants in the city, why this one?

Gilbert noticed the shift in her posture almost immediately. “What’s wrong?” he murmured, leaning closer so only she could hear.

She didn’t answer, but her eyes darted toward the door. Gilbert followed her gaze, and his jaw tensed.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath, setting his fork down.

It didn’t take long for Roy to spot them. His cocky grin widened as he sauntered over, his friends trailing behind him like a pack of hyenas. The group at Anne and Gilbert’s table noticed the change in energy, their conversation halting as Roy approached.

“Well, well,” Roy said, stopping at the edge of the booth. “What do we have here?” His eyes landed on Anne first, then shifted to Gilbert, his grin turning sharp. “Anne, I didn’t expect you to move on so… quickly.”

Anne’s grip tightened around her fork, but Gilbert beat her to it.

“Jealous, Roy?” Gilbert said coolly, leaning back casually against the booth. His arm slid around Anne’s shoulders, but she could feel the tension in his body.

Roy let out a laugh, the sound grating. “Hardly. I’m just surprised, is all. Didn’t think you’d go for someone like Blythe.” He sneered, glancing around the table. “Fake it all you want, Anne, but this? It’s a joke.”

Anne felt heat rise to her face, a mix of anger and humiliation bubbling under the surface. Before she could respond, Gilbert’s voice cut through the tension.

“Funny,” he said, his tone dangerously calm. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

Roy’s smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly recovered. “Come on, Anne. Really? We were together for over a year, and now you’re suddenly in love with this guy? You don’t think that’s a little suspicious?”

Gilbert opened his mouth to retort, but Anne didn’t let him. Instead, she turned to Roy, her eyes blazing.

“Suspicious?” she said, her voice steady despite the fire in her tone. “You think I owe you an explanation after what you did?”

Roy raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s a little convenient, don’t you think? It’s almost like you’re trying to—”

Anne didn’t let him finish. Without thinking, without planning, she turned to Gilbert, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Gilbert froze for the briefest of moments, clearly caught off guard, but then he leaned into her, his hand finding her waist as if it belonged there. The kiss wasn’t just a performance—it was heated, real, and utterly electrifying.

When Anne finally pulled back, her cheeks flushed, she turned to Roy, who looked utterly stunned.

“Still think it’s fake?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with challenge.

The table was silent, everyone staring with varying degrees of shock and awe. Even Ruby looked like she might faint.

Roy blinked, his confidence visibly shaken. He scoffed, but his voice lacked its usual swagger. “Whatever,” he muttered, taking a step back. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” With that, he turned and walked away, his friends trailing awkwardly behind him.

As soon as Roy was out of sight, Anne realized what she’d just done. Slowly, she turned back to Gilbert, whose wide eyes and slightly dazed expression made her stomach flip for a completely different reason.

“Uh…” she started, suddenly at a loss for words.

Gilbert blinked, then a slow, crooked grin spread across his face. “Well,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “if that’s how you shut people up, we should fake arguments more often.”

Anne groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t,” she mumbled.

“I’m serious,” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone. “That was impressive.”

The table erupted into noise, Ruby practically squealing with excitement while Fred and Moody laughed loudly.

“Okay, that was not in the script!” Fred exclaimed, clapping Gilbert on the shoulder.

“Anne Shirley,” Diana gasped, her hand over her heart, “you have been holding out on us!”

Anne peeked at Gilbert through her fingers, her face still burning. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place—half amused, half… something else entirely.

“Well,” Ruby said, fanning herself dramatically, “I think everyone believes you now.”

Anne sighed, leaning back into the booth and trying to ignore the way her heart was still racing. If Gilbert’s hand lingered on her waist a little longer than necessary, she didn’t comment on it.

Chapter Text

The bass from the speakers thrummed through the floor, vibrating up through Anne’s legs as she stepped into the crowded house. The smell of beer, cheap cologne, and something vaguely burnt hung in the air, while laughter and shouts mingled with the pounding music.

“This is chaos,” Anne muttered, glancing around.

“You’re the one who said we should come,” Gilbert pointed out, walking close beside her. His hands were tucked into his jacket pockets, his expression casual but observant as he scanned the room.

Anne frowned. “Ruby said it’d be fun. You know, a chance to ‘mingle’ and whatever.” She glanced around at the throng of people pressed into the small house.

“Ruby says a lot of things,” Gilbert replied dryly. “Doesn’t mean you have to listen.”

Before Anne could retort, Ruby appeared out of nowhere, practically bouncing with excitement. Her cheeks were flushed, and her drink was sloshing precariously close to the rim of her cup.

“There you guys are!” Ruby exclaimed, grabbing Anne’s arm. “You look amazing, by the way. Love the dress. And Gilbert—” She shot him a mischievous grin. “Looking sharp. Anne, you’re so lucky.”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched in amusement. Anne, however, felt her cheeks flush.

“Ruby—” Anne started, but her friend waved her off.

“Come on! Everyone’s here, and they’re dying to see you two,” Ruby said, tugging them toward the kitchen.

Gilbert leaned closer as they followed her through the crowd, his voice low. “What exactly does she mean by ‘dying to see us’?”

Anne rolled her eyes. “She’s being dramatic. Just… don’t make a big deal out of anything.”

“Me?” he said, feigning innocence.

The kitchen was packed with people, their voices blending into a chaotic hum. Anne recognized most of them from campus—friends, classmates, and, unfortunately, Roy. He was leaning against the counter, surrounded by his usual entourage, a drink in hand and his ever-present smirk firmly in place.

Anne felt her stomach twist but quickly forced a neutral expression as Ruby began introducing them to a small group near the drinks.

“This is Anne and Gilbert,” Ruby said with a bright smile. “Aren’t they just the cutest?”

Gilbert slid his arm around Anne’s waist, the motion smooth and effortless, as though it were second nature. Anne tensed slightly but recovered quickly, flashing a smile at the group.

“Finally, the infamous couple!” someone teased, raising their drink. “Ruby never stops talking about you two.”

Anne laughed awkwardly, feeling the weight of their stares. Gilbert, on the other hand, seemed completely at ease.

“She exaggerates,” Anne said quickly, shooting Ruby a look.

“Do I?” Ruby said with a wink.

Gilbert leaned in, his voice low enough that only Anne could hear. “I feel like we’ve walked into a press conference.”

Anne stifled a laugh, grateful for his easy demeanor.

Just as the conversation began to flow, Anne felt a prickle of unease. She turned to see Roy approaching, his confident swagger making her stomach churn.

“Anne,” he greeted, his smirk widening as his eyes flicked between her and Gilbert. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Anne straightened, her jaw tightening. “Roy.”

Gilbert didn’t move his arm from around her waist. If anything, his grip tightened slightly, a silent show of support.

“Wow,” Roy said, his tone dripping with feigned surprise. “Didn’t take you long, did it?”

Anne blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Roy chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “You’ve already moved on. I mean, good for you, I guess. Just seems… quick.”

Anne’s pulse quickened as the anger rose in her chest. “You’re one to talk, Roy.”

“Hey,” Roy said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, this seems… sudden. Almost like you’re trying to prove something.”

Before Anne could fire back, Gilbert stepped in.

“Funny,” he said, his voice calm but sharp. “Because the only person who seems to be overcompensating here is you.”

Roy’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly. “Right. Sure. This whole thing—” He gestured between Anne and Gilbert. “It’s real, huh?”

Anne opened her mouth, her frustration boiling over, but Gilbert cut her off.

“Real enough,” he said smoothly. “Unless you’d like a demonstration?”

Anne’s head whipped toward him, startled, but before she could process his words, he turned to her, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“Anne,” he said softly, his voice meant only for her, “remember, we’re madly in love,”

Her heart skipped a beat, the world narrowing to just the two of them. Roy’s smug face faded into the background as she leaned up and pressed her lips to Gilbert’s.

The kiss was soft but firm, her hand finding its way to his chest as his fingers brushed lightly against her waist. For a moment, the party, the noise, even Roy’s presence disappeared entirely.

When they pulled apart, Anne’s cheeks were burning, but she forced herself to meet Roy’s gaze. His smirk was gone, replaced by a look of thinly veiled irritation.

“Well,” Roy said after a beat, his tone clipped. “Enjoy your night.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Anne let out a shaky breath, suddenly aware of how close she and Gilbert were still standing.

“Not bad,” Gilbert said lightly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Not bad?” Anne repeated, her voice rising slightly.

“I’m just saying,” he teased, his grin widening.

She rolled her eyes, stepping back, but she couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face.

“Come on,” Gilbert said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the living room. “Let’s find Ruby before she tells everyone about that kiss.”

Anne followed, her heart still racing. This night was turning out to be far more complicated than she’d anticipated.

---

The party had thinned out as the night wore on, but the energy in the house was still buzzing. Anne wasn’t sure how many drinks she’d had—she’d lost count somewhere after the third—but the warmth in her chest and the slight sway in her step told her it was too many.

Gilbert, ever the responsible one, had noticed.

“You’re done,” he said firmly, catching her hand as she reached for another cup from the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

Anne pouted, her cheeks flushed from a mix of alcohol and indignation. “I’m fine, Gilbert. Loosen up a little.”

“You’re not fine,” he countered, gently pulling the cup out of her hand. “You’re drunk.”

Anne laughed, a little too loud, and poked his chest. “You’re such a buzzkill, Blythe.”

“Someone has to be,” he said dryly.

Ruby appeared then, her face flushed and her words slurred as she wrapped an arm around Anne’s shoulders. “Annie! Come dance with me!”

Anne giggled, letting Ruby pull her toward the living room. But before they made it far, Gilbert stepped in, his hand on Anne’s arm.

“Not tonight,” he said, his tone firm but calm.

Ruby pouted but didn’t argue, likely too tipsy to care much. She wandered off, leaving Anne and Gilbert alone near the doorway.

Anne looked up at him, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “You’re really no fun.”

Gilbert sighed, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Come on. Let’s get you some water.”

He guided her toward the stairs, steering her past groups of laughing partygoers and the occasional spilled drink. Anne stumbled a bit, but Gilbert’s arm was steady around her waist.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice sing-song.

“Somewhere quieter,” he replied.

They ended up in an empty guest room upstairs, the noise from the party muffled behind the closed door. Gilbert helped her sit on the edge of the bed before crouching in front of her, his eyes scanning her flushed face.

“You good?” he asked, his voice softer now.

Anne nodded, though her head swayed slightly. “I’m great. Perfect. Just a little…” She waved her hand vaguely.

Gilbert exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

Anne grinned, leaning forward until her face was inches from his. “But you like it,” she teased, her words slightly slurred.

He froze, his eyes locking with hers. “Anne—”

She flopped back onto the bed with a laugh, cutting him off. “You’re so serious all the time. Lighten up, Gilbert!”

He stood, running a hand through his hair as he looked down at her sprawled-out form. “You’re going to regret this in the morning,” he muttered.

Anne propped herself up on her elbows, her expression suddenly softening. “Why do you always take care of me?”

Gilbert blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Because someone has to,” he said simply.

Her brow furrowed as she studied him, her drunken haze making her unusually introspective. “You’re always there, you know? Like, every time. Even when I don’t ask.”

“Maybe because I care,” he said, his tone more serious than he intended.

Anne’s lips parted slightly, her eyes wide and searching his face as if trying to process his words through the fog in her mind.

Before she could say anything, Gilbert cleared his throat and stepped back. “Alright, you need to lie down. I’ll find you some water.”

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Gilbert?”

He glanced back, his hand on the doorknob.

She smiled at him, her eyes glassy but sincere. “You’re a good guy.”

Gilbert’s chest tightened, but he forced a small smile. “Just stay put, Anne.”

As he left the room, he couldn’t help the way his mind replayed her words, her smile, and the way she looked at him like he was something more than just her fake boyfriend. And for the first time, he wondered if maybe she saw him the way he’d always seen her.

---

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, cutting sharp lines across the walls and floor of Gilbert’s small living room. Anne groaned as the light hit her face, squeezing her eyes shut and burrowing further into the blanket draped over her. Her head throbbed, and her mouth felt like sandpaper.

“Morning, sunshine,” came Gilbert’s voice, far too chipper for her liking.

Anne cracked one eye open to find him standing in the doorway with a mug in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He was already showered and dressed in a clean t-shirt and jeans, looking unfairly put together for someone who had probably stayed up half the night babysitting her.

“Kill me,” Anne mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Tempting,” Gilbert replied, walking over to set the glass of water and two ibuprofen on the coffee table beside her. “But I figured you’d want coffee first.”

Anne peeked out from under the blanket, eyeing the steaming mug in his hand. “I’ll trade you my eternal gratitude for that coffee,” she croaked.

“Deal.” He handed it to her, watching as she carefully sat up, wincing at the movement. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and the hoodie she’d slept in—his hoodie—was rumpled and way too big for her. Despite her disheveled state, there was something about her that made his chest tighten.

Anne took a cautious sip, the warmth soothing her dry throat. “What happened last night?” she asked, her voice still scratchy.

“You don’t remember?” Gilbert asked, his eyebrows raising slightly.

She frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of the night. “I remember the party, and Ruby dragging us around. And…” Her eyes widened. “Roy.”

“Yep.” Gilbert sat on the armrest of the couch, crossing his arms. “You had a bit of a confrontation with him.”

Anne groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh, God. What did I say?”

“Nothing too bad,” he assured her. Then, after a pause, he added, “Although you did kiss me.”

Her hands dropped, and she stared at him, her cheeks flushing. “I what?”

Gilbert smirked. “In front of Roy. To prove a point, I think. It was pretty convincing.”

Anne’s face turned even redder as the memory resurfaced—Roy’s smug face, her frustration boiling over, and then leaning up to kiss Gilbert without thinking. “Oh my God,” she muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Gilbert’s tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read. “It worked. He left pretty quickly after that.”

Anne sank back against the couch, covering her face with the blanket. “This is mortifying.”

Gilbert chuckled, reaching over to nudge her knee. “Hey, it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve kissed.”

“That was different,” she mumbled from under the blanket. “That was for show. This—this was—” She groaned again, unable to finish the sentence.

Gilbert watched her for a moment, his smirk fading. “Anne,” he said softly.

She peeked out, her eyes meeting his.

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice reassuring. “Really.”

She studied him for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort or awkwardness, but all she saw was that steady, familiar calm that Gilbert always seemed to carry. It soothed her more than she expected.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, taking another sip of coffee.

Gilbert nodded, standing up. “Now, finish that and take the ibuprofen. We’ve got class in a couple of hours, and you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Anne threw a pillow at him, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “You’re the worst.”

“Someone’s got to keep you in line,” he shot back as he walked toward the kitchen.

Anne leaned back against the couch, the events of the night before still replaying in her mind. She couldn’t shake the memory of the kiss—the way his lips felt against hers, the way his hand had steadied her at her waist. It had felt… real.

Shaking her head, she pushed the thought aside. It was just the heat of the moment, she told herself. Nothing more.

But as she watched Gilbert move around the kitchen, so at ease and familiar, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—it was more complicated than that.

---

Gilbert’s room was quiet, the faint hum of the heater the only sound breaking the silence. Anne perched on the edge of his bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap as she watched Gilbert toss his jacket onto the back of his desk chair. The party had been… a lot. And though Anne had held it together in front of everyone—including Roy—her nerves were beginning to fray.

“You want some water or something?” Gilbert asked, his voice casual as he glanced over his shoulder.

Anne shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Gilbert studied her for a moment, then nodded, sitting down on the other end of the bed. He leaned back on his hands, the relaxed posture somehow putting her even more on edge.

“You handled yourself pretty well tonight,” he said.

Anne snorted. “Thanks. Really feels like I nailed it when I almost punched Roy in the face.”

“Almost being the key word,” Gilbert teased. “And you definitely nailed the part where you kissed me.”

Anne’s face heated. “Don’t remind me.”

“What? It worked, didn’t it?” he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, but the truth of his words settled in her chest. The kiss *had* worked. Too well, if the way Ruby and the others had gushed about them afterward was any indication.

That was exactly why she needed to bring up her next idea.

“So,” she started, her voice a little too high-pitched. She cleared her throat. “About that kiss…”

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“I was thinking,” she continued, forcing herself to meet his eyes, “if we’re going to keep this up, we should probably… practice.”

The corner of Gilbert’s mouth twitched, as though he wasn’t sure if she was serious or joking. “Practice?”

Anne nodded quickly, her hands wringing in her lap. “Yeah. I mean, we can’t exactly go around kissing like we’re in a middle school play. People are going to notice if it feels awkward.”

Gilbert tilted his head, a smirk slowly forming. “I didn’t realize you were such a perfectionist about fake dating.”

“Gilbert.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. His smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “You’re serious about this?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “It’s just… we’re supposed to be convincing, right? And that means we need to act like it’s natural.”

Gilbert considered her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sat up straighter, his tone light but sincere. “Alright. If you think it’ll help, I’m game.”

Anne blinked, caught off guard by how easily he agreed. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

She swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest as she scooted closer. “Okay, then. Um… let’s just… start slow.”

“Slow,” Gilbert repeated, his voice amused but steady.

Anne rolled her eyes, more at herself than him. “You know what I mean.”

They sat facing each other, the space between them shrinking as Anne leaned in. Her breath hitched as her eyes flicked to his lips. She hesitated, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were, but Gilbert didn’t move. His gaze was steady, his expression calm, and somehow that made her even more nervous.

“Just… natural,” she whispered to herself, as though repeating it would make it easier.

Finally, she closed the gap, her lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It wasn’t like the one at the party—quick and performative. This one lingered, her hand tentatively resting against his chest.

Gilbert responded just as gently, his lips moving in perfect sync with hers. It was careful, unhurried, and yet…

It was Anne who deepened the kiss, her fingers curling slightly against his shirt. Gilbert’s hands moved to her waist, his grip firm but not forceful, and the kiss grew more intense. What had started as a calculated experiment quickly became something else entirely.

Anne’s mind raced, a thousand thoughts colliding all at once, but none of them made sense. All she knew was the way Gilbert’s touch sent shivers down her spine, the way his breath hitched when her fingers brushed the back of his neck.

When they finally broke apart, Anne’s chest was heaving, her cheeks flushed. Gilbert was staring at her, his own breathing uneven.

“So,” he said after a beat, his voice lower than usual. “That was… natural.”

Anne stared at him, her heart pounding as the weight of what had just happened settled over her. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him, but she also couldn’t find the words to respond.

“I—” she started, then stopped.

Gilbert leaned back slightly, his fingers gently resting on Anne's hips, creating an almost electric connection between them. “Anne,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through the charged atmosphere that surrounded them. His gaze held hers with an intensity that felt both comforting and unsettling. “Are we still… pretending?”

Anne opened her mouth to respond, only to find the words caught in her throat. Her heart raced furiously in her chest, thudding against her ribs, while her mind struggled to process the reality of the moment—a moment that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. The heat of their shared proximity was overwhelming, and she felt a rush of confusion at the memories of the playful banter turned deeper.

"Of course we are!" Anne blurted out, her voice rising in pitch as she began to ramble, her thoughts tumbling over each other. “Why wouldn’t we be? This is nothing but an agreement, a mere arrangement at best. Besides, we hate each other!” Her words spilled forth in a desperate attempt to cling to the comfortable facade they had built around themselves, to mask the undeniable tension crackling between them.

"I never hated you..."

Chapter Text

"I never hated you..." Gilbert's voice was firm, yet there was a softness to it that caught Anne off guard.

"What?" Anne blinked, disbelief painting her features. The air around them felt charged with confusion. If he didn’t hate her, why had their interactions been rife with tension? Why the constant arguments? Why the relentless push for her to leave Roy, especially when they seemed happy together? And what about the fight he had with Roy? "That's insane! Of course, you do; we hate each other," she protested, her heart racing as she tried to make sense of his words.

"No, Anne, it was never hate coming from me," Gilbert sighed, his expression a mix of regret and understanding. "You have to see it from my perspective." He hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he chose his next words carefully. "What you considered anger was really my concern for you." He shifted his gaze away, as though lost in a memory.

"But why? Why all the arguments? And why did you get into that fight with Roy back in high school?" Her tone was demanding, searching for clarity.

"Anne, you need to understand something," he began, his tone taking on a serious edge. "Roy was never the good guy he portrayed himself to be." He took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. "You see, not long after you and Roy started dating, I overheard a conversation between him and Billy Andrews..."

His words hung between them, heavy with implications that Anne couldn't yet grasp. She felt the tension in the air shift as curiosity mixed with the remnants of disbelief, urging her to listen closely.

**Junior year**

The hallway was empty, silent except for the faint murmur of voices coming from the boy's locker room. Gilbert wasn’t supposed to be there; practice had been canceled, but he’d forgotten his history textbook. As he approached, he recognized the voices—Roy Gardner and Billy Andrews.

He didn’t mean to stop and listen, but something about the tone of Roy’s voice made his feet freeze.

“She’s nothing special,” Roy said with a casual chuckle, his words dripping with arrogance.

Gilbert frowned, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag.

“Come on,” Billy replied, laughing uneasily. “You’re joking, right? Anne Shirley? You’ve been all over her for months. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s the whole point,” Roy said, his voice growing louder with a smug edge. “Girls like her are easy to figure out. All I have to do is tell her she’s different, flash a smile, and she’s putty in my hands.”

Gilbert’s blood ran cold, his jaw clenching.

“She’s fun,” Roy continued, his tone flippant. “Feisty, sure. But at the end of the day, she’s just like the rest. She’ll fall for it like all the others, and when I’m done, I’ll move on.”

Billy laughed nervously again, clearly uncomfortable. “You’re ruthless, man.”

“Hey,” Roy said with a shrug. “It’s not my fault girls like Anne think they’re special when they’re just… not.”

The sound of Gilbert’s bag hitting the floor made both boys turn.

Roy’s smirk faltered as he saw Gilbert standing in the doorway, his expression a dangerous mix of fury and disgust.

“Blythe,” Roy said, feigning nonchalance. “Didn’t see you there.”

Gilbert didn’t reply, his fists curling at his sides as he stepped forward.

Billy raised his hands, already backing away. “Uh, maybe I should—”

“Stay,” Gilbert said sharply, his eyes locked on Roy.

Roy leaned casually against the lockers, his smirk returning. “What’s your deal, Blythe? You got a thing for Anne or something?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Gilbert said, his voice low and steady, though anger simmered beneath every word.

“Oh, relax,” Roy scoffed. “It’s not like she’s your girlfriend. She’s fair game.”

Gilbert’s vision tunneled, his body moving before he could think. His fist connected with Roy’s jaw in a solid, sickening crack that reverberated through the room. Roy stumbled back, crashing into the lockers with a grunt of pain, his hand flying to his face.

“Jesus, Blythe!” Roy shouted, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury.

Gilbert didn’t back down. He grabbed the front of Roy’s shirt, yanking him forward until their faces were inches apart.

“You don’t get to talk about Anne like that,” Gilbert growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Not now, not ever. Do you understand me?”

Roy glared, but his bravado was gone. He nodded stiffly, his hand still pressed against his jaw.

“If you hurt her,” Gilbert continued, his grip tightening, “if you so much as breathe in her direction again, I’ll make sure this is the least of your problems.”

Roy didn’t respond, but the fear in his eyes was enough. Gilbert shoved him back against the lockers one last time before releasing him.

Billy, who had been frozen in place, finally found his voice. “Alright, uh… we’re gonna go.” He grabbed Roy by the arm and pulled him toward the door.

Roy hesitated, casting a final glare at Gilbert, but he didn’t say another word. The two disappeared down the hallway, leaving Gilbert standing alone in the silence.

He leaned against the lockers, his knuckles stinging, his chest heaving with adrenaline.

Anne deserved better. Better than Roy. Better than anyone who didn’t see her for the extraordinary person she was.

Anne sat in stunned silence, her thoughts racing as she tried to process the astonishing revelation. He had done that? For her? It felt surreal. A whirlwind of emotions engulfed her—she wanted to laugh until her sides hurt, cry until she had no more tears left, and scream into the open air to release the pent-up feelings swirling inside her.

She longed to leap out of her chair, to run into Gilbert’s arms and hug him tightly, expressing all the gratitude and joy that was threatening to spill over. But at the same time, a part of her wanted to shout at him, to demand an explanation for the profound gesture that had caught her so off guard.

Yet, in that moment, she remained rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak. All she could do was sit there, wrapped in a blanket of quiet admiration for the man in front of her. His kindness and thoughtful action illuminated her world, leaving her breathless with a mix of affection and disbelief.

A few moments passed in tense silence before Anne finally found the courage to react. The explosive action she took surprised even her; it was as if a storm had been unleashed within her that she could no longer contain.

Gilbert felt the familiar, sharp sting of Anne’s hand as it struck his cheek. It registered slowly, but then it hit him—she had slapped him.

“HOW DARE YOU!” she shouted, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me, Gilbert! You stepped in, and then you just let me continue dating him? You argued with me and lied to me for four years! Four long years, Gilbert!” Her voice broke, and she was overtaken by a wave of emotion, tears cascading down her cheeks as sobs wracked her body.

Gilbert’s initial instinct was to feel offended, to defend himself against her accusations, but he paused as the reality of her pain settled in. Instead of lashing back, he chose to approach the situation differently. He stepped forward and enveloped her in a gentle hug, his arms enclosing her as if to shield her from the turmoil she felt inside. Whispering soft reassurances into her ear, he murmured sweet nothings—words meant to comfort her and remind her that she wasn’t alone.

"h-he destroyed me Gil," she sobbed,

"I know Anne-girl I know, I'm sorry, its okay now."

As he stroked her hair with tender movements, Anne gradually began to relax, her cries softening until she surrendered to the exhaustion of her emotions and fell asleep in his embrace.

Chapter Text

Anne leaned against the side of the brightly lit air hockey table, the constant hum and buzz of the arcade machines filling the air around them. Kids darted from game to game, and a group of teens shouted victoriously over at the basketball hoops. The sounds of laughter and beeping filled the space, but Anne hardly noticed.

She turned to Gilbert, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the table. “About last night,” she started, her voice quieter than usual.

Gilbert, leaning on his cue from the pool game he’d just wrapped up with Fred and Moody, looked over at her. His brow furrowed slightly, sensing the weight behind her words. “What about it?”

Anne hesitated. She wasn’t sure how to start. After his confession about what had happened with Roy in high school—and the slap she’d given him—it was all she could think about. And now, standing here with the flashing neon lights reflecting off his face, she felt overwhelmed by how much she didn’t know about him.

“I just…” she trailed off, searching his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? About Roy, about what he said?”

Gilbert sighed, his shoulders dropping. He leaned the cue stick against the nearby wall and took a small step closer to her. “I didn’t think it would help,” he admitted. “You were happy with him—or at least you seemed happy. And I didn’t want to be the guy who ruined that for you.”

Anne’s gaze narrowed. “So you thought letting me stay with someone who didn’t respect me was better?”

Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening. “No, Anne. I thought you deserved to make your own choices, even if I didn’t agree with them. You hated me enough already—I didn’t want to make it worse by interfering.”

“I didn’t hate you!” she shot back, though even as the words left her mouth, she wondered if that was entirely true. There had been resentment, frustration, a constant clashing of wills—but hate? No.

Gilbert tilted his head, a small smirk playing at his lips. “You sure about that? Because from where I was standing, it felt a lot like hate.”

Anne opened her mouth to respond, but a loud, overly enthusiastic voice interrupted them.

“There you two are!” Ruby appeared, a pink slushie in hand and a beaming smile on her face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Gilbert stepped back slightly, the moment between them dissolving like mist. “Ruby,” he greeted, his tone exasperated but affectionate.

Ruby didn’t seem to notice—or care—that she’d interrupted anything. “We’re doing teams for laser tag, and obviously, you two have to be on the same team because, like, duh, cutest couple award goes to you.”

Anne blinked, trying to shift gears from the serious conversation to Ruby’s boundless energy. “Uh, laser tag?”

“Yes!” Ruby exclaimed, grabbing her arm and tugging her toward the others. “Moody already called dibs on being team captain, so you’re stuck with Gilbert as your fearless leader.”

Anne glanced over her shoulder at Gilbert, who shrugged with a half-smile as he followed them toward the group.

Fred and Diana were waiting by the entrance to the laser tag arena, Fred gesturing dramatically as he explained the rules to a clearly amused Diana. Moody stood nearby, adjusting his glasses and grinning like he’d already won.

“Finally!” Moody called when he saw them. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

“It’s been, like, two minutes,” Gilbert pointed out.

“Forever,” Moody repeated with mock seriousness.

Anne couldn’t help but smile despite the lingering weight of the conversation she and Gilbert had just been having. For now, she decided to let it go. There would be time to revisit it later—when they weren’t surrounded by their friends and the flashing lights of the arcade.

As the group suited up and prepared to enter the laser tag arena, Gilbert caught her eye. He leaned closer, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

“Don’t think this conversation is over,” he said, his tone gentle but firm.

Anne glanced up at him, her heart doing an odd little flip. “I didn’t think it was,” she replied softly.

And with that, the whistle blew, and they were off, their team charging into the glowing darkness of the laser tag arena.

----

The evening carried on as the group strolled out of the arcade, their laughter still echoing from the chaos of laser tag. Moody declared himself the MVP of their team, though no one but him seemed to agree. Diana and Ruby linked arms with Anne, their chatter about future double dates filling the air as they approached the small, cozy bar tucked into the corner of the bustling downtown strip.

The neon sign above the door read Rusty Strings Karaoke Lounge, and the faint strains of music and laughter spilled out onto the street. Anne glanced up at Gilbert as they entered, her expression a mix of amusement and mild apprehension. “A karaoke bar? Whose idea was this?”

“Fred’s,” Gilbert said with a smirk, gesturing to where Fred was already bee-lining for the song sign-up booth.

“Oh, of course,” Anne said, rolling her eyes fondly.

The inside of the bar was dimly lit, with strings of Edison bulbs giving the space a warm glow. A small stage stood in the corner, complete with a microphone stand and a backdrop covered in faded musical notes. People sat at tables and along the bar, clapping and cheering as a woman finished belting out a rendition of I Will Survive.

The group found a table near the back, piling into the booth and ordering drinks. Anne slid into the corner, hoping for a moment of peace to revisit the conversation she and Gilbert had been interrupted from having all evening.

As if on cue, Gilbert slid in next to her. “Alright,” he started, leaning slightly closer so they could speak over the music. “Let’s try this again. About last night—”

“Gil,” Anne said, cutting him off. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve—”

Before she could finish, Fred’s booming voice interrupted. “Alright, Blythe!” he shouted, clapping a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder. “You’re up!”

“What?” Gilbert blinked, startled. “Up for what?”

“Karaoke, obviously,” Fred said as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“No, absolutely not,” Gilbert said, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” Moody chimed in, appearing on his other side. “It’s Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys. You’ve got the voice for it.”

Anne snorted, unable to hide her amusement. “Do you now?” she teased, raising an eyebrow at Gilbert.

Gilbert glared at her, though there was no real heat behind it. “Don’t encourage them.”

But Fred and Moody were relentless, pulling him up from the booth despite his protests. “The people demand it!” Fred declared, dragging Gilbert toward the stage.

“I’m going to kill you both,” Gilbert muttered as Moody shoved a microphone into his hand.

Anne leaned back in the booth, grinning as she sipped her drink. She’d never seen Gilbert look so uncomfortable, and it was oddly endearing.

The opening chords of Do I Wanna Know began to play, and Gilbert sighed into the microphone, clearly resigning himself to his fate. But when he started singing, Anne froze.

His voice was low and smooth, carrying the song’s sultry tone effortlessly. The crowd quieted, a few people cheering as he hit the chorus with surprising ease. Anne found herself transfixed, her fingers tightening around her glass as she watched him onstage.

She didn’t know what it was—maybe the way his voice seemed to fill the room, or the way he occasionally glanced in her direction—but something about it made her heart race.

Ruby nudged her. “He’s good, isn’t he?”

Anne nodded wordlessly, her cheeks flushing.

As the song ended, the room erupted into applause, and Fred and Moody practically dragged Gilbert off the stage, congratulating him like he’d just won a Grammy.

When he returned to the booth, his face was flushed—not from embarrassment, but from the adrenaline of performing. He slid back into the seat next to Anne, his eyes meeting hers.

“Well?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his expression.

Anne tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smile. “Not bad, Blythe. Not bad at all.”

Gilbert chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Glad I could entertain you.”

Fred leaned over the table, grinning. “I’m telling you, Blythe. You missed your calling as a rock star.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but his smile lingered as he turned back to Anne. “Now, where were we?”

But before Anne could respond, Moody interrupted again. “Alright, whose turn is it now? Anne? Ruby? Diana?”

Anne sighed, leaning back against the booth with an exasperated laugh. Maybe the conversation would have to wait a little longer.

----

After a few hours of singing, laughing, and maybe one too many cocktails (thanks to Fred's insistence on ordering rounds), the group finally decided to call it a night. The chilly air of the evening sobered them slightly as they spilled out of the bar, cheeks flushed and spirits high.

“I can’t believe you dragged me onstage,” Gilbert muttered to Fred, shaking his head.

“Hey, the crowd loved you!” Fred grinned, slinging an arm around Gilbert’s shoulder.

“I think Anne loved you more,” Moody teased with a sly smirk.

Anne rolled her eyes but said nothing, her cheeks warming as she picked up her pace toward the car.

It wasn’t long before they were back at the cozy house that Anne, Diana, and Ruby shared. The girls had lived there since starting college, and it had become something of a gathering spot for their friends. The living room was decorated with mismatched furniture, fairy lights strung along the walls, and stacks of books and magazines scattered on the coffee table.

As everyone filed inside, Diana flicked on the lights and tossed her bag onto the couch. “Anyone want tea or coffee? Or more drinks?”

“Water, please,” Gilbert said, collapsing onto the couch.

“Same,” Anne added, kicking off her shoes and curling up in the armchair by the window.

Fred and Moody exchanged glances, grinning like they were in on some kind of secret.

Ruby narrowed her eyes at them. “What’s with the faces?”

Fred shrugged innocently, but Diana shot him a look, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Fred, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Fred said with mock innocence, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Anne blinked, her eyes darting between the two of them. “Wait… what’s going on here?”

Diana groaned, burying her face in her hands. “We were going to tell you eventually…”

Fred, unable to contain himself, grinned and kissed the top of Diana’s head. “We’re dating!” he announced, as if it were the most exciting news in the world.

Anne’s jaw dropped. “What? Since when?”

“A few months,” Diana admitted, her voice muffled. “We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Ruby gasped, practically leaping out of her seat. “You didn’t tell me? Diana Barry, I thought we told each other everything!”

Diana sighed, looking apologetic. “It wasn’t on purpose! We just… wanted to make sure it was serious before saying anything.”

Fred beamed, clearly unbothered by the secrecy. “It’s serious, alright. I’m in love with her.”

Diana’s cheeks turned bright red as she elbowed him. “Fred!”

The room erupted into laughter, but Ruby suddenly looked suspiciously quiet. Anne noticed the way she fidgeted with her hands, her gaze darting to Moody, who was uncharacteristically avoiding eye contact.

Anne raised an eyebrow. “Ruby…? Is there something you want to share with the class?”

Ruby froze, her eyes widening. “What? No! What are you talking about?”

“Oh my god,” Anne said, sitting up straighter. “You’re hiding something too, aren’t you?”

Ruby’s face turned a deep shade of pink, and Moody groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, fine!” he blurted. “We’re dating too.”

The room went silent for a beat before chaos erupted.

“WHAT?” Diana and Anne exclaimed in unison.

“How did I not know this?” Diana demanded, staring at Ruby. “You live with me!”

Ruby shrugged helplessly, her cheeks still red. “We wanted to keep it lowkey! I didn’t want to jinx it or… you know…”

Moody chuckled nervously. “It’s been a couple of months. We didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“A big deal?” Anne said, throwing a pillow at Ruby. “You’re dating Moody Spurgeon and didn’t tell me?!”

Ruby caught the pillow, her embarrassment slowly giving way to laughter. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! But can we just focus on the fact that Diana and Fred didn’t tell you either?”

Diana held up her hands. “Don’t drag us into this. We’re not the ones sneaking around!”

Fred grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos. “This is the best night ever.”

Gilbert, who had been quietly observing the entire exchange with a bemused expression, finally spoke up. “So let me get this straight. Fred and Diana are dating. Ruby and Moody are dating. Am I the only one here who isn’t in a secret relationship?”

Anne snorted, throwing a pillow at him too. “Don’t look at me, Blythe. we're an open book.”

Gilbert caught the pillow easily, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Good to know, Anne-girl. Good to know.”

As the laughter and playful banter continued, Anne couldn’t help but glance at Gilbert, their earlier conversation lingering in the back of her mind. There was still so much left unsaid, but for now, she let herself enjoy the moment.

they ended up in Annes room where they finally finished their conversation.

"Anne we cant keep lying to our friends like this, I think I'm in love with you," Gilbert sighed

but Anne was asleep

Chapter Text

Anne woke to the soft morning light streaming through her bedroom window, a golden haze filtering through the pale curtains. Her room smelled faintly of lavender from the sachets tucked in her drawers and of… coffee? She stirred, stretching lazily under the covers, when she realized there was an unfamiliar weight on the other side of her bed.

Her heart leaped in alarm before her brain caught up with the sight of Gilbert Blythe lying beside her, fully clothed, his head resting on her spare pillow.

“Gilbert?” she whispered, her voice groggy.

His eyes fluttered open, hazel and sleepy, his messy hair sticking up in all directions. “Morning,” he murmured, voice low and hoarse from sleep. He rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly, blinking at her.

Anne’s cheeks flushed as she stared at him. “What… what are you doing here?”

Gilbert looked around, seemingly just remembering where he was. “You fell asleep while we were talking last night. and I didn’t want to leave you alone. So I, uh… stayed.”

Anne’s eyebrows shot up, and she sat up straighter. “You stayed in my bed?”

“Technically, I stayed on your bed,” Gilbert corrected with a sheepish smile. “It’s not like I climbed in under the covers or anything.”

Anne opened her mouth to argue but stopped when her gaze softened. The sincerity in his expression disarmed her, and the blush creeping up his neck made him look almost boyish. “Fine,” she muttered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

As the realization of their proximity sank in, the air between them grew thick with unspoken tension. The events of the previous night lingered in the back of Anne’s mind—Gilbert’s voice onstage, the way he’d looked at her, the words they still hadn’t said to each other.

“Where is everyone?” Gilbert asked, breaking the silence.

Anne shrugged. “Probably still asleep or out getting breakfast. Diana and Ruby usually go on morning walks after a night out.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he took a deep breath. “Anne, we need to talk.”

Anne stiffened, instantly on edge. “About what?”

“About last night. About everything,” Gilbert said, his voice steady but earnest. “We keep avoiding it, and I can’t do that anymore.”

Anne sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Gilbert…”

“No, just—let me say this.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to keep pretending. I don’t want to act like I’m okay with being your friend when I’m not. I’m not okay with it, Anne. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Her heart raced as she tried to process his words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I can’t do this anymore—this game we’re playing where we both know there’s something between us, but we never talk about it,” Gilbert said, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and longing. “I’m tired of pretending that I don’t care about you the way I do. Because I do, Anne. I care about you. More than I probably should.”

Anne’s breath hitched, her eyes wide as she stared at him. His confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and it terrified her.

“Gilbert,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I… I don’t-”

He closed his eyes briefly, nodding as if he’d expected her answer. “I get it. I do.” He stood, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mixture of hurt and acceptance. “But I can’t keep doing this—not when I know how I feel, and not when I know what I want.”

Anne swallowed hard, her chest aching as she watched him pull on his jacket. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” he said simply, his voice quiet.

She stood, panic rising in her chest. “Gilbert, wait—”

He turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of sadness and determination. “I’m not saying this to pressure you, Anne. I just… I needed you to know. But I can’t keep standing here, pretending I’m okay with less than what I feel for you.”

Anne’s throat tightened as she struggled to find the words to stop him, to tell him that she didn’t want him to go. But the truth was, she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t ready to admit what she felt, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would be.

Gilbert nodded, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “Take care, Anne-girl.”

And then he was gone, leaving her standing alone in her room, her heart heavy with regret.

----

Anne did not take their "break up" well,

"Anne I know you don't want to talk about it but what happened between you and Gilbert?" Diana sighed sitting on the edge of Annes bed.

"it wasn't real," Anne sobbed,

"what?"

"we were *sniff* never *sniff* dating" Anne continued "it was all to get back at Roy, but he *sniff* wanted more,"

Diana’s face softened with understanding as she listened to Anne’s choked words. She reached out, gently placing a hand on Anne’s trembling shoulder. “Oh, Anne,” she murmured, her voice thick with sympathy. “You may not have started dating him for real, but... it doesn’t mean none of it was real, you know?”

Anne shook her head, her hands gripping the edge of the blanket she had wrapped herself in. “It doesn’t matter now. He wanted something I couldn’t give him. And now—” Her voice cracked, her tears streaming freely down her cheeks. “Now he’s gone, Diana. I ruined everything.”

Diana gave her a moment to breathe, then leaned forward, her tone gentle but firm. “Anne, have you even stopped to think why you’re this upset? Why it hurts so much that he’s gone?”

Anne stilled at Diana’s words, her sobs quieting as she wiped at her tear-streaked face. “Because…” she began but faltered. Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head, struggling to put her feelings into words. “Because he was my friend. And I—I don’t know, Diana, it just… hurts.”

Diana tilted her head, studying Anne with a knowing look. “You’re not just upset because he was your friend, Anne. Be honest with yourself. Gilbert Blythe isn’t just anyone to you, is he?”

Anne blinked at her, her breath hitching. “Of course he’s not just anyone,” she whispered. “He’s… he’s Gilbert.”

“Exactly,” Diana said, her voice full of conviction. “Anne, I think you’re scared because you’ve spent so much time convincing yourself you hated him, or that it was all some game. But it’s not, is it? You’re not crying because you lost a fake relationship. You’re crying because you lost him.”

Anne’s lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. She stared at Diana, her mind spinning as her best friend’s words sank in. Memories of Gilbert flooded her thoughts—the way he teased her with that crooked smile, the way he always seemed to be there when she needed him, the way he sang on stage, his eyes flicking to hers like she was the only person in the room.

The way her heart ached now that he wasn’t there.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke again. “I love him, don’t I?”

Diana smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from Anne’s cheek. “You do. And it’s okay to admit that. It doesn’t make you weak, Anne. It makes you human.”

Anne’s chest felt tight as the truth settled in. She had spent so long hiding behind her stubbornness, so long avoiding the depth of her feelings for Gilbert. And now, it was all so painfully clear.

“What do I do, Diana?” she asked, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “What if I’m too late?”

Diana’s smile grew, her tone filled with encouragement. “You’re not too late, Anne. Gilbert’s been waiting for you for years. But you have to be brave enough to tell him how you feel.”

Anne swallowed hard, her heart pounding at the thought. The fear was still there, but beneath it was something stronger—hope. She wasn’t sure where to start, but for the first time, she knew what she wanted.

And it was Gilbert. Always Gilbert.

-----

The soft glow of the lamp on Anne’s desk cast long shadows across her room as she stared at the blank piece of paper in front of her. Her pen hovered over it, trembling slightly as her mind raced with thoughts of everything she wanted to say but couldn’t put into words.

How could she explain it all? The years of denial, the moments she’d buried her feelings, and the painful realization that had hit her like a tidal wave only hours earlier. She sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face as she pressed the pen to the paper, finally letting her thoughts spill out.

Gilbert,

I don’t even know how to start this. Everything I write feels wrong, or not enough, or just… too much. But if I don’t try, I’m afraid I’ll never have the courage to tell you the things I should have said a long time ago.

First, I need to say I’m sorry. For everything. For the way I’ve treated you, for the way I’ve pushed you away, and for not being honest with you—or myself—when it mattered most. You didn’t deserve any of that.

You were right, you know. About everything. And I was too stubborn, too afraid to admit it. I told myself it was easier to hate you, or to pretend that what we had was just a game. But the truth is, I was lying. To you and to me.

Because the truth is… I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Maybe even since the day you pulled my braid in school. And that terrifies me, Gilbert. It terrifies me because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t know how to be vulnerable like that.

But I don’t want to keep running from it. I don’t want to lose you because I was too scared to tell you how I feel. You mean too much to me for that.

I don’t know if it’s too late, or if you’ve moved on. But if there’s even the smallest chance that you still feel the same way, I need you to know that I’m ready to stop pretending. I’m ready to try, if you’ll have me.

Please.

Yours,
Anne

Anne stared at the letter, her heart pounding as she read it over one last time. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was honest. It was everything she needed to say, laid bare on the page.

She folded it carefully, slipping it into an envelope and scrawling his name across the front. Without giving herself time to overthink, she grabbed her coat and slipped out the door, clutching the letter tightly in her hand as she made her way to Gilbert’s house.

The night air was crisp, and the streets were quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. By the time she reached Gilbert’s front porch, her hands were trembling—not from the cold, but from the sheer weight of what she was about to do.

Anne hesitated for a moment, staring at the door. A part of her wanted to knock, to face him right then and there. But the fear of rejection held her back. Instead, she bent down and slid the envelope under the door, her breath hitching as it disappeared inside.

Straightening up, she took a step back, her heart thundering in her chest. For a moment, she considered running away before he could find it. But then she shook her head, forcing herself to stand tall. She’d done her part. Now it was up to him.

As she turned and walked back down the path, the faintest glimmer of hope sparked in her chest. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new. Something real.

----

Gilbert did not read Annes letter, however his Roomba had a lovely meal made out of it.

and when they got back to college the next week not a 'couple' anymore Roy was thrilled...

Chapter Text

ANNE

Anne sat alone on a weathered bench in the courtyard, hugging her knees to her chest. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement, but she barely noticed. The world felt muted, distant, as if she were watching it through a pane of glass.

She was miserable. Completely and utterly miserable.

It had been three days since Gilbert walked away. Three days since she’d let him leave without telling him the truth. Three days since she had started to realize that maybe she had been in love with him all along.

it had been two days since she wrote him that letter. two days since she poured her heart out and two days since she received no reply

And now? Now she was drowning in the weight of her own silence.

“Wow,” a voice sneered, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Didn’t expect to see you like this.”

Anne’s stomach twisted before she even turned her head. She knew that voice.

Roy.

He stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of his expensive jacket, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. He looked as polished as ever—perfectly styled hair, confident posture—but there was something different in his expression. Something cruel.

Anne stiffened, instinctively straightening her back. “What do you want, Roy?”

Roy let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he took a step closer. “I just had to see it for myself,” he said, eyes flicking over her slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “Little Miss High-and-Mighty, finally brought back down to earth.”

Anne swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists in her lap. She refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“I mean, it’s kind of poetic, isn’t it?” he continued, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. “You left me—what, for him? Only for him to leave you, too?”

Anne’s jaw clenched. “Go away, Roy. i left you because you cheated”

But Roy wasn’t done. “You know, I actually feel bad for Blythe,” he mused, tilting his head as if considering it. “He wasted all that time being your boyfriend, only to end up with nothing.” He clicked his tongue, his expression darkening slightly. “At least when I strung you along, I was getting something out of it.”

Anne flinched as if she had been slapped.

Roy grinned. “Oh, come on. Don’t act so surprised,” he scoffed. “You had to know you weren’t special. You were just another girl on a long list, Anne.”

Her stomach churned, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “And yet, you’re the one standing here, wasting your breath on me,” she shot back, her voice low and dangerous. “Which makes me wonder… maybe you’re not as over it as you pretend to be.”

Roy’s smirk faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, rolling his eyes. “Please. You were just a game. And from where I’m standing, you lost.”

Anne didn’t reply. She didn’t trust herself to.

"aww little orphan Annie doesn't have her boyfriend to protect her anymore, maybe he grew tired of waiting for you to put out, I know I did." Roy laughed, "I guess Blythe realised he had better things to do than wait for a pathetic, ugly mutt to get into bed with him."

before anne knew what she was doing her fist collided with his jaw, causing him to collapse in pain,

"what the fuck you bitch?!"

"if I was just another girl on your fuck list why did you wait 4 years? why did you waste so much time on me? and why can't you just leave me alone?" Anne huffed, "and I don't need a man to protect me against a sad excuse of a man who looks like he was drawn with my left hand, I'm perfectly capable of kicking your ass all. by. my. self!"

and with that she left.

As Anne stormed away, her pulse thrummed in her ears, her knuckles still aching from the impact. She didn’t regret it—not one bit. Roy had deserved every ounce of it.

But as she turned the corner, away from the courtyard and away from the smirking, sneering ghost of her past, the weight of her reality hit her like a freight train.

Gilbert hadn’t responded.

Her letter—the one she’d agonized over, rewritten a dozen times before finally sliding it under his door—had gone unanswered. Unacknowledged.

Maybe Roy was right.

Maybe Gilbert had realized she wasn’t worth the wait.

Anne clenched her jaw, shaking her head as if that alone could rid her of the thought. No. Gilbert wasn’t Roy. He wasn’t the type to play games, to manipulate, to use people just because he could.

If he hadn’t responded… maybe it was because he’d truly given up on her.

The realization stung more than she cared to admit.

She didn’t know where she was walking until she reached the familiar front porch of her shared house. Diana and Ruby weren’t home—she had seen them leave earlier with Fred and Moody, laughing, happy, untouched by the storm raging inside her.

Anne let herself inside, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. She wanted to collapse into bed, to sleep off the last three days like they were nothing more than a bad dream.

Instead, she found herself stopping outside her bedroom door, her gaze falling to the floor.

And then her breath caught.

Because there it was.

A letter.

Folded neatly, placed just outside her door, her name scrawled across it in familiar, looping handwriting.

Gilbert’s handwriting.

Her heart stuttered, her hands shaking as she bent down to pick it up. She pressed it to her chest for a moment, inhaling deeply, before slipping into her room and sitting on the edge of her bed.

For a long time, she just stared at it.

She had spent days convincing herself that he wouldn’t respond. That he had walked away for good. That she had ruined everything.

But now, with his letter in her hands, her fingers trembling as she unfolded it, Anne realized something.

She still had a chance.

And maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t too late.

Anne,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because I don’t know how else to say it. Maybe because if I try to say it out loud, I’ll lose my nerve.

Or maybe because walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t know how to live with that choice.

These past few days have been hell. I keep telling myself I did the right thing. That pretending wasn’t enough anymore. That I had to walk away before I lost myself completely. But the thing is, Anne—none of that has made me miss you any less.

I don’t know what you wanted from me that night. I don’t even know if you wanted me to stay. But I do know this: I meant every single second of it. Every touch, every look, every moment we spent wrapped up in something neither of us could name. It was real for me. It’s always been real for me.

I thought if I left, it would be easier for you. That maybe without me in the picture, you’d have space to figure out what you wanted. But if I’m being honest, I don’t think I can keep pretending I’m okay with just being your almost.

I won’t force an answer from you, Anne. I never have. But I need you to know—when it comes to you, I’ve never been pretending.

—Gilbert

----------------------------------------------------

GILBERT

Gilbert was miserable.

He tried to pretend he wasn’t. He buried himself in studying, in rounds at the clinic, in anything that kept him moving so he wouldn’t have to stop and think. Because thinking meant remembering the way Anne had looked at him that night—the hesitation in her eyes, the way her lips had parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t.

Thinking meant acknowledging that leaving her room, walking away from her, might have been the biggest mistake of his life.

But what was he supposed to do? He had laid everything out in front of her—offered her all of himself—and she still couldn’t say the words. He wasn’t angry at her for it. He could never be angry at Anne. But he also couldn’t stay and pretend like he wasn’t breaking a little more every time she hesitated.

So instead, he threw himself into work, trying to outrun the ache in his chest.

It didn’t work.

And Diana Barry wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

She found him in the library, buried in a mountain of medical textbooks he wasn’t actually reading. He barely looked up when she pulled out the chair across from him, arms folded tightly across her chest.

“You’re an idiot,” she announced.

Gilbert sighed. “what happened to hi how are you?”

“No, I mean it. A complete idiot.”

“Diana—”

“No, you don’t get to talk.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You don’t get to sit here moping like you’re some tragic, heartbroken hero when this entire mess is your fault.”

That made him look up. “My fault?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Diana, I told Anne how I felt. I told her I didn’t want to pretend anymore, and she didn’t—” He swallowed, suddenly finding it harder to say. “She didn’t want me the same way.”

Diana’s eyes flashed. “You absolute moron.”

Gilbert blinked.

“She’s miserable, Gilbert. Completely and utterly miserable. She hasn’t eaten properly in days. She barely sleeps. And do you know why?” Diana leaned forward, her expression fierce. “Because she wrote you a letter, pouring her entire heart out, and you ignored it.”

Gilbert stared at her, his stomach turning to ice.

“What… what are you talking about?” His voice came out hoarse, uncertain.

Diana scoffed, throwing up her hands. “The letter, Gilbert! The one she slipped under your door two days ago! The one where she finally—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you really don’t know, do you?”

Gilbert’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood up so fast it nearly toppled over. His pulse was roaring in his ears.

“What letter?!” His voice was sharp, urgent. “Diana, what letter?!”

Gilbert didn’t waste another second.

The library, the textbooks, the ache in his chest—none of it mattered anymore.

Anne had written him a letter. Anne had told him everything. And he hadn't even known.

He was already halfway out the door before Diana could say another word, his heart pounding as he tore through campus. The crisp evening air bit at his skin, but he barely felt it. His mind was racing, his feet carrying him on instinct.

He needed to find her.

He needed to fix this.

By the time he reached Anne’s house, he was breathless, barely pausing before bounding up the steps. His fist was raised, ready to pound on the door—

But then it swung open.

And there she was.

Anne stood frozen in the doorway, her coat half-buttoned, her hair slightly wild, as if she had dressed in a hurry. Her eyes widened when she saw him, lips parting in shock.

They stared at each other for a long moment, both catching their breath, both realizing at the same time—

They had been running after each other.

“You—” Gilbert started, but his voice failed him. He took a step closer, his hands clenched at his sides. “Where were you going?”

Anne swallowed, her throat bobbing. “To find you,” she admitted, her voice quiet but certain."I got your letter.."

His heart nearly stopped.

She had been coming for him. She had been coming to fix this too.

Gilbert exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Anne,” he said, his voice raw, “Diana just told me. I didn’t know about the letter. I never got it.”

Anne’s breath hitched. “What?”

“I never read it. I never even saw it.” He stepped closer, desperate for her to believe him. “If I had—Anne, if I had—”

Her hands were trembling. He could see it even as she gripped the edges of her coat.

The world around them seemed to still. The distant hum of the city, the rustling of the trees, even the wind curling around them like a whispered secret—all of it faded into nothing. It was just them, standing on Anne’s doorstep, hearts pounding in sync, breaths mingling in the cool night air.

Anne’s lips parted, as if she were about to say something—maybe to ask, maybe to explain, maybe to do what they had been dancing around for years. But Gilbert didn’t let her.

He couldn’t.

Because suddenly, it didn’t matter what words she had been about to say. They could talk later, they could untangle everything later. But right now?

Right now, he needed to feel her.

With a quiet, desperate exhale, Gilbert closed the space between them, his hands coming up to cradle her face as he kissed her.

It wasn’t hesitant, it wasn’t careful—it was years of longing wrapped in a single moment, a wildfire finally given air to burn. His lips moved against hers with aching reverence, as if she were something sacred, something he had spent his whole life reaching for.

Anne let out a soft gasp against his mouth, her hands flying to his chest before curling into the fabric of his coat, pulling him impossibly closer. She melted into him, like ink bleeding into paper, like the sky surrendering to the horizon.

Gilbert felt his heart crack open, spill over, drown in her.

She tasted like cinnamon and conviction, like every poem he had ever read but never truly understood until now. Her breath hitched when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and he felt it like a pulse in his veins.

For so long, they had been circling each other, pretending, denying, burying the truth beneath stubbornness and fear. But there was no denying this. No hiding from the way her fingers clutched at him like he was something she had been afraid to lose.

And God, he had been so afraid to lose her.

When they finally broke apart, Anne’s forehead rested against his, their breaths mingling in the night.

Gilbert opened his eyes, drinking her in—the flushed cheeks, the parted lips, the way she looked at him like she was seeing something she hadn’t let herself see before.

"Tell me you felt that," he murmured, his voice rough, unsteady.

Anne swallowed, her hands still gripping his coat.

"I—" She stopped, blinking up at him, her expression warring between wonder and terror.

Gilbert’s thumb brushed her cheek, gentle, patient, but his next words were anything but.

“I love you, Anne.”

"I love you too Gil,"

The truth hung between them, undeniable, unshakable, like gravity itself.

Chapter Text

The first snowfall of the season dusted the streets of Avonlea like powdered sugar, blanketing the rooftops and lining the trees in delicate white. It was the kind of evening that made the whole town feel like a snow globe—silent, magical, infinite in its own small way.

Anne and Gilbert walked side by side down the familiar path toward Green Gables, their hands brushing occasionally but never quite entwining. The world around them was still, save for the soft crunch of their boots against the snow and the distant hum of a crackling fireplace from a nearby cottage.

Anne pulled her coat tighter around her, a quiet smile playing on her lips. “Do you remember the first time we walked this way together?”

Gilbert glanced at her, his smile slow and knowing. “You mean the time you refused to speak to me the entire way home?”

Anne laughed, the sound warm in the cold air. “I had very good reasons for that.”

“Did you?” Gilbert teased, nudging her lightly. “Or were you just being stubborn?”

Anne gasped in mock offense. “I am never stubborn.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Right. And I suppose you never held a grudge for four years, either?”

Anne swatted at him, but he caught her hand in his before she could pull away. He didn’t say anything at first, just let his fingers curl around hers, their hands fitting together like they were always meant to.

Anne’s breath hitched, but she didn’t let go.

“I used to wonder,” Gilbert murmured after a moment, his voice softer now, more serious. “If we’d always be like that. Almost something, but never quite.”

Anne’s heart ached at the thought. She knew exactly what he meant—years of glances that lingered too long, of words that never quite made it past their lips, of feeling too much and pretending too little.

But not anymore.

She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Not anymore,” she echoed aloud, as if reading his mind.

Gilbert stopped walking, pulling her gently toward him. Snowflakes clung to her lashes, her hair, and he thought she had never looked more like something out of a dream.

“You’re sure this time?” he asked, searching her face, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Anne let out a soft, breathy laugh, as if she couldn’t believe he would even ask. She reached up, her gloved fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the cold air making his skin pink at the edges.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she murmured.

And then she kissed him.

It was sweet and slow, the kind of kiss that didn’t need urgency because they finally had all the time in the world. Gilbert’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, deepening the moment as the rest of the world faded away.

The snow continued to fall around them, but neither of them noticed.

All that mattered was this—this kiss, this moment, this love that had been written in the stars long before they had ever understood it.

Anne pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his, her eyes shining. “I love you,” she whispered, the words falling from her lips like a promise.

Gilbert grinned, his heart soaring. “Took you long enough, Anne Shirley.”

She laughed, and then he was kissing her again, lost in the kind of forever he had been waiting for his whole life.