when tragedy strikes ☾ shirbert

chapter 11: snap

a/n: thank you for 4k reads! i'm in a quarter-life crisis. vote!

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Gilbert never paid attention to rain before working on the steamer. He remembered the first time it stormed overseas vividly.

Pungent sweaty odors clouded densely in the air, his pillow seemed limp and uncomfortable under his head, and his stomach dropped infrequently from sailing over rough waves. Laying awake, he listened to the water pelting the ship's deck and figured it was something he'd have to get used to.

Next to his hammock was a small circular window, they were scattered all over the sleeping quarters, and nobody bothered looking out of them to see the consistent sky and ocean. But Gilbert found a change of pace in a jumble of raindrops leaving streaks down the glass.

Most fell slowly, trailing intricate lines full of kinks that were similar to an old tree's bark. Sometimes faster drops would ruthlessly bombard them, and they'd combine, then flee. He found a sense of solstice in watching the rain, and it was one of the first things on the ship to remind him of Avonlea.

Delphine turned inward in Gilbert's arms, leaving splotches of drool on his cotton tee as he sat with her by the back kitchen window. A dull warm light was washing over them, emitting from the flickering tall candle on the table. Every now and then he'd stand with the weight on his good leg, and gently sway her, sharing stories from the steamer in whispers when she got upset. Delphine's favorite was how he met her father, Sebastian, and Gilbert was about to retell it until he realized she was sleeping.

He kissed her softly on the forehead, and let himself drift back to the window where he saw the reflection of a familiar ginger girl looking back at him.

"Is she asleep?" Anne asked quietly, lowering her own candle from her face.

Her frame was covered with a long ivory nightgown that had excess material gathered into a light frill along the squared neckline, and two small buttons on the top. The sleeves were short but spacious and too big for her thin arms. Her hair was loose, cascading her shoulders freely.

Gilbert nodded, "I didn't mean to wake you," he said in a hushed tone.

"Oh, you didn't," She assured him, "I came for a glass of water- I couldn't sleep."

Making sure not to wake Delphine, he stood slowly, eyes flickering between the baby and Anne. The ladder set her candle down by his, "May I hold her?"

He cleared his tightening throat from the nerves he got as she walked towards him, feeling she should've given some sort of audible warning before coming so close to him. But, realistically, that was completely unnecessary.

"Of course."

Gently, Gilbert released Delphine out of his cradled arms and carefully into Anne's. The baby stirred and Anne pulled her in closer, running a gentle thumb across each of Delphine's little fingers. Gilbert watched as Dellie succumbed to peaceful breathing again, and Anne began brushing a light hand through the baby's full head of hair.

"Tea?" Gilbert offered, grabbing his crutch that was leaned against the wall and going over to the rusted kettle by the sink. He lifted the lid to see it was roughly half full from the cup he had drunk earlier.

"Tea would be great," Anne responded, wondering if Delphine was deeply in a dream by now.

He smiled, "I hope you don't mind lemon."