when tragedy strikes ☾ shirbert

chapter 12: tomorrow is nearly yesterday

a/n: hi, it's been a while.

—

When Gilbert woke, he woke slowly. As he grew with his spine, he looked over to the frost-bitten window, a pale yellow sun there in greeting. The storm seemed to have left quietly in the night.

His skin basked in the early morning, a little woozy from remnants of good dreams. Shuffling out of bed, as per usual on the weekend, he didn't plan on changing out of his sleepwear for breakfast. He stretched his arms toward the ceiling, a bit of his white cotton tee separating from the waistline of his olive pajama pants. Knuckles intertwining, he yawned, then let his arms fall to the side before he reached for his bedroom door.

Down the stairs and into the hallway, the recollection of Anne staying the night swarmed his brain. A slight smile joined his features as he sort of limped by the room she slept in, never bothering to grab his crutch in the morning for almost as long as he had it. Gilbert began wondering what time she woke up, and was fond of the answer likely being early; rising with the bluejays and fresh dew on the grass- what Anne might look like leaning out her bedroom window, breathing in the air of spring...

Gilbert turned into the kitchen, where from the floor to the ceiling, warmth coated each surface and captured dust particles dancing around the room like fairies. Through the sunbeams, he saw a small slip of paper on the corner of the table. His brow creased as he lifted up the scrap piece of parchment and read the scribbled writing.

Left earlier. Did not want to worry Matthew and Marilla.

Thank you for the spare room.
Anne

He lingered on her name.

"Morning."

Mary entered the room with Delphine cradled snugly in her arms. Gilbert managed a low smile at her in substitute of words, and fiddled with the edges of the note, looking back at it.

"That something important?" Mary asked, her face a little more serious seeing how Gilbert was scanning his eyes over it repeatedly.

He swallowed, "Mm-" and shook his head, folding the paper unequally and slipping it into his front pajama pocket.

Mary set the baby into her chair, saying nothing, queuing Gilbert for an explanation. He took a bit to catch on.

"It's from Anne," He began, "She left it. It says she went back to Diana's- the Barry's, earlier this morning."

"This morning?" Mary repeated, a hum following her words as she straightened out Delphine's floral bib. "The sun herself just woke! I wonder how early that girl left?"

Gilbert merely shrugged and took a seat by Delphine, the room beginning to swirl with half English and half baby talk.

"I didn't happen to hear a thing, or else I would've asked her to stay for breakfast," Mary said.

She started oatmeal for the little one, heating up some water, then heading to the spice rack for cinnamon.

"I know you would've," Gilbert replied kindly, and whispered good morning to Dellie.

He fixed her lilac sleeve as she tried to grasp onto his fingers. When done, he let her be entertained with the facets of his hands until a steamy bowl was placed in front of her. Besides offering Dellie a few encouraging words to eat, he didn't say much else.