Since Avonlea sits in winter, the sun starts to sink in the sky around four in the afternoon. To keep the drafty house warm, Gilbert builds a roaring fire, of which he has grown very skilled at, due to Bash's slow adjustment to Avonlea's cold weather.
The sun stealing away it's light so early darkens the house, making it difficult for Anne to see the words printed in her books.
With a blanket wrapped around her, Anne lays next to the firelight to read. Gilbert walks into the room, noticing Anne's head lying on the floor. He quickly grabs a pillow and asks her to lift her head, setting the pillow between her fire coloured hair and the dirty floor.
Anne smiles up at him in gratitude, before going back to her book. Rain starts to pitter on the roofing outside. In her story, a man with hazel eyes enters the scene, bringing a thought to the front of her mind.
She looks at Gilbert, who is tending to the fire, "Your eyes are hazel, aren't they?"
Gilbert looks at her, intrigued by her question. "So I've been told."
Anne sets her book to the side, "Let me see."
Gilbert examines her position, laying on her back, and leans over her, as if about to do a push up. Their faces close, giving her a perfect view of his eyes.
"So many colours in one iris. Brown, green, and blue." her gaze consumed by his eyes, her hand strays to his cheek, making his breath hitch.
She sighs,"My eyes are just blue. I long to have eyes like yours."
Gilbert tilts his head, not taking his eyes off hers, "Blue eyes are a recessive gene, making it rare to have them, along with your red hair, that's a beautiful rarity that almost never occurs."
Anne smiles a little at his scientific talk, "That doesn't change the fact that they are only one colour."
Gilbert bends his arms a little, bringing their bodies closer together, as to look into her eyes. "No," his breath spreading across her face, seeming to race straight to her heart, "They have different shades. Light blue ringing around your pupils, then a darker, almost navy blue, lining the outside of your irises."
Concentration furrows his brow, he looks so intently in her eyes, and they both forget themselves, there in the firelight, laying staring into each other's eyes. Anne kisses his nose, softly. Making his heart skip a total of ten beats.
Her eyes widen, realizing what she has done. She starts to apologize, worried he would be mad that the ugly orphan had just kissed him on the nose, but he lifts one of his hands off the ground and gently pushes a finger to her lips, silencing her.
He leans his head down, touching her nose with his, their lips inches apart. A crash of thunder sounds, making Anne jump in fear. Gilbert, protectively, pulls her into his arms, he laughs softly, "It's just thunder, Anne."
Anne looks into his eyes, fearful. "Thunder is am awfully terrifying sound when you have an imagination like mine."
Gilbert smiles and kisses her forehead, "I believe you."