when tragedy strikes ☾ shirbert

chapter 03: stubborn old ways

a/n: please don't be a silent reader!

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Two teacups were full of steamy chamomile, the fine china elegantly printed with blue flowers and ancient towers, scattered with gulls of the sea. The golden biscuits and berry pastries went untouched, only the small pot of sugar had a dent.

"There were scraps of sorts- the furnace still stands with all those practicalities. They couldn't conserve anything else due to damage." Marilla spoke as she clasped the glass in her wrinkled hands, consoled by the warm sensation.

Tuesday afternoon. Anne was excused from school, Diana persuaded her parents to pardon her as well. Their mothers were chatting over tea alone in the formal living room, as the girls presumably rested upstairs.

"I admit, it's going to be difficult after coming to the conclusion that we can't save anything," Marilla went on earnestly, still in a bit of denial.

Eliza Barry reached over the nicely set table, placing a sincere hand on top of Marilla's.

"I haven't discussed this with my husband yet, but I'm certain he'd approve," she faintly smiled, "You should not resort to complete loss. We are more than willing to fund and gather donations for a rebuild."

"Why, I couldn't accept!" Marilla retracted her hand at almost an instant, "I greatly appreciate what you're doing for us, but there's no way to take such a generous offer."

Diana pressed her lips together in disappointment as she eavesdropped at the top of the staircase. As the conversation worsened, she gathered her breath before walking back into the guestroom, hands clasped in front of her. Upon her entrance, she timidly knocked against the doorframe.

"Bad news, isn't it," Anne mumbled, figuring it out purely by the hesitance in the sound. She crashed into the feathered quilt and stared at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Diana frowned, approaching the queen-sized bed, "It seems as though Ms.Cuthb- Marilla, is insistent on figuring this out herself."

Silence followed, the brunette merely observing her friend lost deep in thought. Diana always wondered what was going on in Anne's brilliant mind. Some days when her envy heightened, she'd especially long for her beauty to be traded for such intelligence and imagination.

A charm separate from looks.

Quite unmagically, all Anne was thinking about was the fire, which occurred a few days ago. It took a long mourning hour for the sun to rise, signaling everyone to part. They all offered any help they could to the Cuthbert's prior to leaving.

Jerry returned home for the night with his siblings and mother, and the Barry's weren't hesitant when offering hospitality. There was plenty of room for three guests who were practically family.

"How are you healing?" Diana asked, sitting gracefully, crossing one leg over the other on the mattress.

Anne sighed, "Fine," she shrugged before elaborating, "Apparently Gilbert is checking on me every few days to properly rebandage, and," her arms rose to make air quotes as a way of ridicule, "reassure that everything was okay."

Diana's eyes sparkled, teasingly glaring at the mention of his name. Feeling the heavy gaze, Anne got up and studied her expression; it hinted something she couldn't place a finger on.

"Why do you always do that?" She asked in a very standoffish manner.

"It's lovely is all," Diana assured, as she swiveled herself closer to her friend, "And I believe you know why."