Ch 7: Season 1 Episode 7

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Disclaimer: All original dialogue and character names are property of Anne with an E on Netflix. Everything else is the original work of this author. 

Today was the first time that Gilbert had opened his father's bedroom door. Mrs Kincannon had already made the bed and cleaned the room. One would have never known what had happened in the last few months from the room alone. Gilbert's fingers reached over towards the book that had sat on his father's table. They had a handful of chapters to go and Gilbert found his lips let out a gasp of air.

What had been the worst part of this loss, had been the thought that his father would miss out on so many key moments in his son's life. He wouldn't see Gilbert become a man, fall in love and find his passions. The house seemed lifeless with just him inside. It was an empty shell of memories and moments that seemed to plague him as he would enter. What is keeping you here? He asked himself. At that moment, he couldn't think of a single thing.

It made the decision of shutting up the house, finding someone to mind the horse, all the more simple. He wasn't sure where he was going to go but as the train pulled its way out of Avonlea train station he felt as if he could breathe again. As if the air had cleared and his lungs gasped at the sweet-tasting air. He had yet to decide what he was going to do, but at the poster advertising work at the docks, he felt as if it was his father giving him a sign to try something new until he was certain.

Even in his old age, Mr Blyth was a child of adventure. Gilbert knew in his heart that he would have wanted him to continue grasping at opera unities and milking them for all their worth. On his death bed, the man had even said it clear himself. 

The docks held a pungent smell of sweat and cigar smoke. Despite the smell, Gilbert plastered on his best smile and went to talk to the chief. The middle-aged man with a missing tooth and a worn cap did not seem to mind Gilbert age, in fact, "the younger the better. More energy in your bones ey" he mumbled as he write Gilbert name into his register. The job offered a bed in the attic of one of the workshops and with nowhere else to go Gilbert took it up. Despite sharing a room with near to ten others, Gilbert kept his bed tightly made and never left any valuable possessions. Not that he would have brought any.

He was quick to learn not to interfere with the likes of his fellow workers, to put his head down and work till the day was done. Despite the heavy lifting, he found that taking a walk around town before he sift had become his new favourite activity. There he could observe others around they made their way through their lives. How they dressed and what they did. It all intrigued him as he made up stories about what their lives had been. It wasn't until he peeked into one of the trader's shops did he see the most intriguing person yet. There stood Anne taking a collection of coins.

Out of all the people he had expected to have seen, she would have been the last one. Gilbert tucked himself to the side and waited patiently to see her emerge. She looked surprised to see him, but for the first time in a long while, her gaze did not waver. Finally, Gilbert Blyth had caught her attention and he was glad for it. He hadn't properly noticed that her cheeks were littered with freckles that tended him to bright stars on a winters night.

"Gilbert" she breathed. It had been the first time he had heard her say his name and he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't just stormed off. Their previous encounters felt like a rocky road. It was difficult to sense when Anne would be agreeable and when she would not. It was today he realised that it depended solely on the fact that she was alone talking to him. She had even smiled as she said his name. That was definitively a good sign. 

"Hello," he started. If he hadn't already been confused about this girl, he found himself with more questions than before. What was she doing here in Charlottetown and more importantly what was she doing selling things inside?

"Gilbert" she breathed. It began to sound less strange to him now.

"I think I need to sit down I..." her voice stammered. Without another word, he leads her to a nearby eatery. He sat there talking, about everything and nothing. And the whole time she nodded and smiled politely, never once interjecting or interrupting. Somehow she had ended up in a similar position that he had, and in some sense, this was the first time he had felt close to anyone. More importantly, he didnt feels so alone, because deep down he knew that all the feelings he didnt understand, at some point, she had felt them too.

Perhaps that's why he felt that he had to leave. Everyone on Prince Edward Island, despite being flawed in many ways, had a purpose, a goal, a family, a home. These were not things he knew of before. In some sense, neither was Anne Shirley. "I owe you an apology" she started. 

"No, I should apologise to you"

No, you shouldn't"

"I was rude" 

"But it was my fault"

"Can we please not argue for once?" 

"Can you please stop contradicting me" he couldn't help but smile. His heart paused for a moment as if taking a breath together. Seeing someone so certain of themselves and so willing to stand up for things was so refreshing. Blyth needed some of that in his life.

"Gilbert, I am very sorry that I wasn't more sensitive about your father and what losing him really meant for you"

"Its water under the bridge"

"I know so much more now than I did then. Anyway"

"anyway"

Gilbert took his leave for work. Yet again, he found himself fleeing the scene. How was it that his brain would stand up for the redhead in an instant, and yet? He found himself speechless and his words mumbled in her presence. Anyway. It was a word that meant anything and nothing all at the same time. But in that instance, it felt like their own way of saying that they forgave each other. That they could look past all the short tempers, heads being hit by slates. It meant that neither of them was going to run away when things got difficult. 

Anyway. It was a word that held so much possibility, it held a promise of tomorrow. A tomorrow with Anne Shirley seemed like a good tomorrow in his eyes, but he had meant what he said. He needed to return to Avonlea on his own, he would have to face the solitude that had clouded his family home. But, anyway, he would think of that later. After he figured out what it was. 

His Eyes (Gilbert Blyth) Anne with an EWhere stories live. Discover now