Imagines and Preferences: Book 1

Preference: First Kiss | Anne With An E

So, here you are, standing under a canopy of flowers in the brightest dress you own, a flower crown resting on your head. Anne told you earlier that she thinks Gilbert is going to ask you to dance tonight, and, though you're skeptical, you're also hopeful.

You look at all the happy, bright people around you, trying to spot one of your friends amidst them, but to no avail.

Suddenly, there's a tap on your shoulder.

You turn to meet Gilbert, causing your cheeks to go red. "Gi-Gilbert. Hey."

"Hey," he replies, not noticing your nervous stutter because he's nervous himself. "I was wondering if you'd want to, um, dance? Wi-With me?"

You smile, your stomach doing somersaults. "I'd love to."

He looks relieved as he takes your hand. You nervously put your other hand on his shoulder, and he hesitantly puts his on your waist.

"You look really... nice," he says as you begin to awkwardly dance.

You blush. "You look nice, too."

He hesitates for a moment, thinking, then shakes his head. "No, I... Nice wasn't the word I was going for."

Your raise a brow. "Then, what was the word you were going for?"

He smiles, blushing before he even speaks. "Beautiful."

He may be the cheesiest boy you've ever met, but you're falling for him anyway. You stutter, "I... Thank you. You're... beautiful, too."

He laughs. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you reply, also laughing.

Now more comfortable, he spins you, and when you're facing him again, you spin him, too, causing him to laugh. You go out and spin back into his arms, him later doing the same. With each passing second, you get more comfortable and, consequently, closer to each other.

You're both spinning and laughing to the upbeat music as if drunk, unable to speak due to shortage of breath.

Unbeknownst you, Aunt Josephine — on Anne's instruction — is telling the band to play something slow. Of course, they listen to her.

You stop for a moment, then Gilbert starts dancing again, this time more slowly. You're both breathless, so it's a welcome change in tempo, though you're more aware than ever of how close you are.

"You're surprisingly a good dancer," you joke.

"Surprisingly?" he asks. "I'm offended."

You laugh. "There was a compliment in there."

"Surprisingly, there was."

"Now I'm offended. I give great compliments."

"Really?" he teases. "Let's hear them, then."

You think for a moment, though it's not hard to find something about him to compliment. "You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen in my life."

He blushes but continues joking. "That wasn't half bad."

"Oh, I'm not done," you reply. "Your dimples are absolutely adorable, you're the nicest — and smartest — boy in all of Avonlea, you have the prettiest smile... and you look really cute in that flower crown."

His face is crimson by the end of it, but he manages to look at you instead of the floor. "You know, I could retaliate with the sweetest, most heartfelt compliments you've ever heard in your life, but words wouldn't do how I feel about you justice."