SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

018.

Why would a man care about some girl's drawings?

There's no reason for that, Marianne kept telling herself, not one. Even when the drawings are of the man's son, making it painfully obvious that she's taken an interest into the boy; and an interest is said as quite an understatement, though she would rather she hadn't acknowledged.

But Marianne did acknowledge. Once again she couldn't sleep, thinking again and again of all the ways Gilbert might confront her about the sketches (and awful and terrifying they all were). There was some small part of her that hoped Mr. Blythe wouldn't tell his son about anything, but she preferred not to hold onto it too tightly. She didn't want to face even greater disappointment. Going to school next time already seemed worse then usually, and Marianne dreaded the moment her eyes will set on Gilbert again.

But she didn't even have the chance to see him, for the boy didn't come at all. Marianne thought it strange for him to be late, and was surprised when she realised that he wouldn't arrive - yet, now she's not surprised anymore. Having seen Mr. Blythe in his state of bad health, she can imagine the reason behind his absence.

Anne doesn't seem to notice, though. She's much too absorbed with her relationship with Diana, whose mother made it impossible for the two girls to share their closeness anymore. Marianne can't help but pity both of them, knowing how much having a close companion means to Anne.

Now she awaits the redhead girl outside. It feels somehow strange to be walking only in each other's company, without Diana, but almost everything does these days. It's not like she could help the situation anyway.

Hearing the door slam behind her, Marianne turns around. And there she is - Anne - jaws locked, and a storm in her eyes.

"What is it?" asks Marianne as they start to walk. "Is it about Diana again?"

Anne only groans in return, making it somehow theatrical. "No, it's about the loathsome persona of Gilbert Blythe, again. Apparently, he's missing classes and Mr. Phillips doesn't want his best student to fall behind. So he had me take these to him," she finishes bitterly, mentioning to the extra books in her hand.

It's hard to tell whether Anne is more upset by her given task or by Mr. Phillips referring to Gilbert as his best student. Though Marianne is leaning into the latter option a little more - to be called a student worst than the Blythe boy must surely seem like an outrageous insult to the redhead girl.

"Like I was supposed to know where does Gilbert Blythe live! Frankly, I couldn't possibly care less about his whereabouts, ever."

"Then you should be glad you don't have to go there alone. As a companion, I may not compare to Diana, but I happen to know the way." And, hoping to forestall any possible questions, she adds, "I stumbled across his house during one of my walks and I think I should remember the way just fine."

Anne says nothing, still obviously not over the injustice Mr. Phillips had done her. They walk side by side in silence and every time Marianne steals a glance at the other girl, she sees her eyes fixed on some distant spot and her lips pressed tightly against one another. She wouldn't call herself eager for conversation, but even then she would probably refrain from even trying to talk to Anne at the moment; instead the only sound to be heard is the snow creaking under their feet.

After a few minutes long walk the Blythe house becomes visible. For a moment Marianne is afraid she'll have to stop Anne from running away and force her to go forward, but it's not necessary. The redhead girl only groans again as they step onto the porch, an overly dramatic question of "Why does everything happen to me?" leaving her lips.

Marianne resists an urge to scold Anne and she watches as she knocks instead.

"Gilbert? Gilbert Blythe!" Anne's fist bangs on the wood several times, giving away her irritation just like the tone of her voice does. "Life is so unfair."