A New Beginning || Gilbert Blythe x Oc ||

Chapter 13

"Pink would also be divine," Anne continued, her imagination already painting the walls in the softest shades of sunrise. "I never usually think of pink, being as I'm so red-headed, it's out of the question. But you, Ruby, you would look so pretty in a pink room."

Anne's enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the weight of recent troubles, a lightness began to fill the space between them. Climbing onto the bed to sit closer to her friends, Anne's voice took on a conspiratorial tone. "We'll stay busy. I'm learning to bake. We can make some biscuits for the boys while they work. You can see Gilbert. Diana thought he cut quite a heroic figure putting out the blaze on your behalf."

"On my behalf," Ruby echoed, a distant look in her eyes as she contemplated the notion. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"I didn't notice, of course," Anne quickly added, her tone shifting to one of mock indifference. "I am not a Gilbert Blythe fan. I shall never forgive his insult to Lydia, and I shall never be dissuaded from my low opinion of him." Her declaration was firm, yet there was an unspoken softness, a complexity of feelings she wasn't ready to explore.

Lydia, ever the supportive friend, nodded in agreement with Anne's sentiment, understanding the depth of emotions that Anne navigated with such statements.

"That's a good idea about the biscuits," Ruby said, finding solace in the thought of doing something normal, something that connected them to the everyday life they longed to return to. "It's a shame you're not in school anymore. You seem awful smart about things."

"It's best for everyone that I'm not there same for Lydia," Anne replied with a thoughtful nod, a statement that carried more weight and history than the words alone could convey.

Lydia echoed Anne's nod, the shared understanding between them deepening. They were bound by more than just the events of the past days; they were united in their perspectives, their hopes, and the silent acknowledgment that in their friendship, they found a strength they hadn't known before.

-+-

Late in the day, the sun cast long shadows over the worn path leading to the Gillis house, where Lydia, Ruby, and Anne walked with purpose. Earlier that day, they had busied themselves making biscuits for the hardworking men toiling on the reconstruction of the house. As they neared their destination, Anne greeted the minister with her usual warmth.

"Afternoon, Minister," Anne's smile was as bright as the sun filtering through the trees.

While Anne engaged in conversation with the minister, Lydia's attention wandered momentarily, catching sight of Ruby stealing glances at Gilbert. A gentle smile tugged at Lydia's lips as she entertained the thought of them as a couple, their differences complementing each other in a way that seemed almost poetic. But her reverie was interrupted as Anne and the minister's discussion drew her back into the present.

"This is some heavy work," the minister remarked to Anne, his voice tinged with admiration for the labor being undertaken.

As the trio continued toward the house, their steps accompanied by the rhythmic chirping of crickets, they were met with jeers and taunts from Billy, one of the local troublemakers.

"Hey, look," Billy's voice pierced the tranquility of the evening. "It's the freak and her new twin sister! And the crybaby!"

Anne's brow furrowed with displeasure, but she pressed on, ignoring Billy's remarks. However, Gilbert, standing nearby, couldn't resist stepping in.

"As long as they bring food," Gilbert retorted, his tone laced with a hint of annoyance. "I don't care if it's Quasimodo."

As they drew closer to the house, tragedy struck in the form of Ruby tripping over her own feet and tumbling to the ground. In an instant, Anne and Lydia rushed to her side, their expressions a mix of concern and alarm. Ruby lay on the ground, her legs splayed out in an awkward position, while Billy's laughter echoed in the background, a cruel reminder of the unkindness that often lurked in their midst.