Work Text:
It started out as a joke. A joke they only ever referenced in letters and private conversations because Lord only knew what Marilla would say if she ever overheard, let alone anyone else.
It began as an aside in one of Anne’s numerous letters to Cole in the first few weeks, a dig at a member of the male species who had left a toad in her hat. Anne, being Anne, claimed to be far more upset at the ill treatment of the poor, unassuming creature. Diana, however, wrote to Cole about the very same incident, and swore that Anne's scream could have been heard half a league away.
“ I simply do not understand boys at all! How girls can stomach liking any of them is indeed a very great mystery to me. Save for you, Cole, of course. But you are such a sensitive and caring soul that I could not see you playing such a despicable and malicious trick on anyone, girl or boy. I only wish there were more people of your own disposition. Then, perhaps, the world would be an easier place to live in!
I find I am liking the idea of marrying you more and more with each passing day I am forced to endure these buffoons. Indeed, I am tempted to abscond to Charlottesville this very night and elope, if that suited you. I believe I could provide for the both of us very nicely once I finish my schooling, so you needn't give up your art.
Marilla is scolding me for wasting so much paper, but it is hardly my fault that there is so very much to say to you since you have left! Please write me back at your very earliest convenience, or, ideally, even earlier than that.
Sincerely Yours,
Anne Shirley-Cuthbert
PS Please do consider my most momentous and serious proposal. I do not think I can stomach such neanderthalic behavior much longer.”
Cole, ever the realist in their friendship, replied to her very serious proposal very seriously indeed.
“ My Dearest, Darling Anne,
While the idea of eloping with you does sound promising, I'm afraid I must insist on a big wedding. After all, Diana would never forgive us for not inviting her, and I fear Aunt Jo, Marilla, And Matthew would feel the same. I fancy a summer wedding myself, but if you'd prefer, I could be talked into a spring one.
I count the days and hours until I can see you again, my darling fiancèe, and if any boys ever give you any more trouble, point them out to me, and I'll very seriously consider giving them a stern talking to next time I'm there.
Please excuse the shortness of this letter. I find myself so overcome by the idea of marrying you that I can barely think of anything else to write.
I look forward to your next letters, my lovely future wife, and I hope they all include your plans for our summer wedding.
Your Eternal Soulmate,
Cole"
To which Anne replied with equal seriousness:
“Dear Cole
I quite enjoyed your last letter. I laughed myself silly when I first read it, and every time I thought about it afterwards. I got some rather strange looks about it in school, as well. Gilbert Blythe kept looking at me, glaring, I think, for interrupting the lesson, and Ms. Stacy was quite unsure of what had come over me. But, really, how could I help it when your letter was quite simply the most expressive and romantic letter I could have ever imagined receiving from anyone? I had no idea you were a poet as well as an artist.
Having a wretched day be completely turned around by such a letter makes me grateful, indeed, for your friendship.
However, I do take serious issue with a summer wedding. There is absolutely nothing romantical about summer time weddings. They're always so hot and no one ever wants to dance in the heat and my wedding must have dancing. It is simply non-negotiable. A spring wedding would suit me just fine.
Sincerely Yours,
Anne Shirley-Cuthbert
It only escalated from there.
Cole would often refer to her as “Darling Anne” and Anne, for her part, would call him anything from “Dearest” to “My Stars and Sea and Sky” just to hear back if Cole found any particular amusement with one.
They were, perhaps, taking the joke a bit too far. Anne could no longer allow Diana to read Cole's letters for fear of her getting the wrong idea, and Marilla found any letters from Charlottetown promptly snatched away from her hands as soon as the mail came in.
But neither of them really thought about the consequences of such a joke. Not really.
It was the sixth time Cole had come back for a visit, long enough for the both of them to settle into their running gag both in letters and in person. This turns out to be a severe oversight on their part.
Cole had made good on his promise to come to lunch at the school, which the girls had needled out of him. Being the good sport he was, he had even brought some strawberry tarts from a bakery in Charlottetown to share. And so, Cole found himself warmly welcomed into the Anne and Diana’s circle at lunch, basket full of tarts in hand, looking slightly hesitant when he first arrived. The girls had continued their habit of meeting inside the schoolhouse, while the boys still prefered to roughhouse outside during their lunch hour. Which made Cole the only boy inside the schoolhouse. Well, the only boy besides Gilbert Blythe, who had made it his habit to cloister himself into the quietest corner he could find, and study.
Every once in a while, Gilbert’s gaze would drift from his book to the group of girls, or rather, one girl in particular, but his eyes would always find their way back to the page before the girl herself could take notice. Cole, on the other hand, did take notice, but only rolled his eyes at how obvious his classmates were. He had said his piece to Gilbert Blythe the last time they had been in the schoolhouse, and he certainly wasn’t going to make a habit of it. Not even for Anne’s sake.
There were certainly times when Cole was struck with the urge to push the two of them together or perhaps, lock them in a broom closet, and beg them to just admit their feelings already. Unfortunately, whatever boldness Cole had learned at Josephine’s side didn't extend quite that far. Yet.
“Now that we’re all settled, Cole.” Anne said, firmly, tone all business, her expression friendly, yet expectant. “We were all looking forward to hearing all about your fantastical adventures in Charlottetown.”
Cole chuckled, scratching his neck slightly self consciously. “It really isn’t that interesting. I haven’t been doing anything new. Just mainly working on my art.” His whole face transformed, relaxing into a happy half formed smile. “Aunt Jo has been wonderful about the whole thing. She’s even gotten me tutors.” He flushed slightly, and looked at Diana. “I’ve tried helping around the house to try to repay her, but she won’t hear anything about it.”
Diana giggled, “You can try all you like to repay her, she’ll likely never allow it. Auntie Josephine has always been stubborn like that.”
Ruby sighed, dreamily. “It must be so nice, living in that lovely house, only having to worry about your art. How did you convince Ms. Barry to allow you to stay?”
“I think it is ever so romantic,” Anne chimed in, saving Cole from answering. “You’re like an artist of the Renaissance and Aunt Josephine is your wealthy patron! She obviously saw your magnificent potential and quite selflessly wanted to be the one to help bring your masterpieces into the light.” Cole shot Anne a grateful smile, which she returned in kind.
“That’s very kind, Anne,” Cole said, through a bite of strawberry tart he had taken to hide his embarrassment at Anne’s extravagant compliments. “But all I really want to do right now is learn as much as I can. One of my tutors is teaching me how to stretch canvas, and another is teaching me the history of art. How it has developed over the years, and what techniques I can learn from famous artists. It’s really very interesting.”
“Yes,” Ruby said, very politely, though her eyes had glazed over slightly. “That sounds very interesting.”
Anne, however, had positively lit up from the inside, eyes practically burning with desire as she caught scent of yet another new subject she could learn about. “You’re studying the history of art?” She asked excitedly. “How incredibly fascinating! Do you have any books on the subject?”
Cole laughed. “No books, really. Mostly my tutor just lectures at me half the time, and asks me to make small projects reflecting what I’ve learned the other half.” He gave her a small, teasing smirk. “But I do have notes. And if you ask me nicely, I might even copy them and send those notes with your next letter.”
Anne squealed. “That would be so rapturously wonderful, words cannot even express how happy that would make me. Thank you!”
Cole rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. “Don’t thank me yet, Anne, darling. I said I might .”
And this is where they made their mistake, for the other girls, who had started up another conversation entirely upon seeing how passionate Anne and Cole were about such a boring subject, fell entirely silent. A fact neither Art History enthusiast had managed to pick up on. However, Gilbert Blythe, who had, once again, only been minding his own business, did notice when the entire room went silent, and looked up from his book.
Anne, quite used to this nickname, didn’t even consider her next words before they were out of her mouth. “If our marriage is going to work, I’m going to require access to any and all new, and interesting knowledge you come across. I will not tolerate any kind of book or note hoarding.”
They had the whole room’s attention now, not that either of them noticed.
“You are a very demanding fiancee,” Cole muttered. “Maybe I want to call the whole wedding off now.”
Anne gasped in dramatic horror, clutching at her heart. “How could you say such a thing? I thought you loved me!”
Cole snickered, but his smile slowly died as he finally began to feel every eye on him and Anne. Anne, too, felt the humor of the joke being sucked away by the astonished gazes, eating up their every word as though it were the most interesting thing they had ever heard in their lives. Diana was the only one who didn’t look hungry for gossip. Instead she looked confused, and perhaps even a little hurt.
Anne and Cole exchanged a horrified look that communicated everything they felt at that exact moment. Oops .
“Are the two of you really engaged?” Jane asked in a whisper.
“You’re too young to get engaged.” Diana interjected. “It isn’t true, right, Anne?”
“Well, no,” Anne said, voice strained, eyes pleading with Cole to help her out of the mess they had both created. “Not exactly…”
Diana’s brows furrowed. “What does not exactly mean?”
“I-it’s a joke,” Cole blurted, and Anne winced at how unconvincing it sounded just then. It was the truth, but thanks to their careless teasing, it was clear no one in the room quite believed them.
“No, really, it is.” Anne’s face was heating as she spoke, but she pressed on. “Cole and I have this, er, this agreement, that if we never find people to marry, that we’ll-” she broke off, uncertain for a split second, until Cole nodded shortly, encouraging her to continue. “Well, we’ll marry each other. We joke about it often when we write to each other. I suppose we just forgot ourselves.” Anne bit her lip.
“Right.” Cole agreed, and Anne thought he might at last have found it within himself to be helpful, but he said no more. She shot him an incredulous, and slightly annoyed look which he resolutely ignored.
“Well, that’s… rather sweet, you two. I don’t know why you didn’t tell us about it sooner. We would have supported you, of course.” Diana said, kind, and diplomatic as she ever was.
“I didn’t think it was anyone’s business.” Anne muttered, ears red.
Diana’s face scrunched up just a bit and, too late, Anne could see the hurt in her dearest and greatest friend’s face. Guilt weighed down her stomach like she had swallowed rocks.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you.” She said quietly but, very contritely, when the rest of the group had moved on to other topics of conversation.
Diana, not one for holding on to grudges, smiled tentatively. “Yes, well, just invite me to the wedding.”
Gilbert, quite without warning, sprang up from his chair, and, quiet as he could, exited the room. No one else seemed to notice but Cole and Anne, the latter following him out the door with her eyes.
Leaning in close, careful that no one else would overhear, Cole whispered. “I think you ought to follow him.”
Anne jumped, then glared at her friend. “Why would I do that?” She whispered furiously, though her flaming face gave her away.
Cole only rolled his eyes. “Because I talked to him last time. It’s your turn.”
Anne sputtered. “What do you mean last time?”
He grinned, and pushed on her shoulder. “Just go.”
Indecision warred on Anne’s face for several seconds before she at last stood, and made her way to the door. With one final glance back at her friends, who had gone silent again at Anne’s abrupt departure. Then she took a deep breath, and pulled open the door.
“What’s with her?” Jane asked, frowning at the now closed door.
“We didn’t upset her, did we?” Diana asked, fretfully, half rising off the floor, ready to go after Anne herself. “I better go-”
“It’s alright Diana,” Cole said firmly. “Anne just needed some air. She’ll be back when she’s ready.”
Ruby and Jane nodded and went back to their food with little comment after that, but Diana had noticed the now empty corner that Gilbert had previously occupied.
“Is that all Anne’s after?” Diana asked, too casually. “Fresh air?”
“What else would she be after?” Cole asked, tone too innocent.
Diana smirked. “You know, Cole, I get the feeling that your and Anne’s wedding is unlikely to happen.”
“You know, Diana, I feel the same way.” The boy offered his milk bottle and the two friends clinked glasses, smiling all the while.
Anne found Gilbert sitting beneath a tree, book opened in his lap. Steeling herself with a deep breath through the nose, she shoved down the very unwelcome butterflies in her stomach and marched directly up to him.
“Hey,” she began, lamely, and he looked up at her in surprise.
“Anne,” he said, shooting up at the sound of her voice, and any desire she had to turn tail and run disappeared when she heard how… happy he sounded to see her. Then his brows came together, and his expression shifted. “What-” he cleared his throat. “What are you doing out here?”
It was a question Anne had been asking herself since she had walked out the door of the schoolhouse. She hardly thought, “Cole told me it was my turn to talk to you.” would make much sense to him. It barely made any sense to her .
“I-uh-” she looked down, trying to gather her thoughts. “I just wanted to see if you were alright. You left the room so quickly, I just wondered if something might be wrong?” She made the mistake of meeting his eyes halfway through, which did funny things to her brain and made the last sentence come out sounding more like a question.
Gilbert flushed, and broke their gaze. “It was just getting a bit too distracting in there and the conversation seemed-” he paused, seemingly searching for the best way to describe exactly how the conversation seemed. “Private.” He concluded, staring at the book clenched between his hands.
Anne laughed, the sound shrill and awkward to her own ear. “You heard that?”
He still refused to meet her eyes as he replied, “I tried not to.”
“It really is just a joke between Cole and I,” Anne insisted, though she couldn’t explain to herself exactly why it was suddenly so important to her that Gilbert understand her relationship with Cole.
“It’s really none of my business,” he insisted, backing away. “I don’t know why I keep-” he pursed his lips, cutting himself off. “It’s ridiculous of me. I shouldn’t-”
Anne stared at him, unsure of exactly what to say, and suddenly regretting following him out at all. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t want anyone to misunderstand.”
Gilbert shook his head. “No, don’t apologize.” He said, sounding much older all of a sudden. He shot her a crooked, self deprecating grin. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for my irrational behavior.”
In that moment, Anne felt oddly sure she understood Gilbert. He was giving the both of them a way out of an uncomfortable situation. All Anne had to do was laugh along with him, and they could both ignore whatever it was this moment was building to. Because it was building toward something, Anne could feel it. The charge in the air, the change in the wind. Something between them was building, had been building for a while now, and she could either run from it like she had before, or she could face it head on. And, in that moment, Anne felt rather tired of running.
Impulsively, she took a step, two steps, three steps forward until there wasn’t much room left between them. “Are you sure you’re alright, Gilbert?” This close, she could count his eyelashes if she wanted to. She stared in fascination as his eyes widened minutely, and his pupils dilated at they took her in, much closer than she had been before. His adam’s apple bobbed, as he swallowed.
“Uh…” It had been a long while since Anne had caught Gilbert at a loss for words around her. Ever since he had returned from his travels, he had seemed so much more sure and mature around her, but now she was reminded of the boy who had stared at her and Ruby, trying to start a conversation she had wanted to avoid at all costs at the time. But if he had been looking at her this same way, Anne was unexpectedly at a loss for why she would have ever wanted to avoid him at all. The truth was, every time Gilbert looked at her, Anne found herself thinking more and more that she might not want him to stop. A thought she never actually allowed to fully form in her head until now. “I’m quite alright. Thanks Anne.” His voice was quiet, and he didn’t step away from her, like she was half expecting he might.
Instead, his eyes roved over her face like he was trying to memorize it, gaze catching on her mouth for a moment too long to go unnoticed. Anne’s breath caught, and she was suddenly hyper aware of every one of her breaths, ghosting across her parted lips.
Her own eyes, almost against her will, were drawn down slightly, and a million thoughts bled into each other like watercolors. You, without a doubt, have the best, most kissable Cupid’s bow was what she had said to Diana. She was struck with the ridiculous idea to try to describe his lips next. She wanted to say they were a lot fuller and softer looking than she had thought before. She wondered about Marilla’s insistence that when someone loved Anne, that was when she would be kissed. Because she was fairly certain that Gilbert Blythe did not love her.
But in that moment, that hazy, clarifying, uncertain, paradox of a moment, she was not entirely sure that Gilbert Blythe did not want to kiss her. And she wasn’t entirely sure she didn't want to kiss him too.
Life truly was complicated.
A piercing clang shattered the moment, and both of them blink, as if coming out of a trance, as Ms. Stacy rang the bell to signify the end of break.
“Well,” Anne started, voice coming out oddly hoarse. “We should probably get back.”
“Right.” Gilbert nodded, seeming to recover much faster than Anne was able, leaving her to wonder if, perhaps, the whole thing was just her over active imagination playing tricks on her. But then, Gilbert grinned, and grabbed her hand. He dragged her behind him as he ran, forcing Anne to tighten her grip on his fingers and run with him.
He released her hand before they reached the door to the school, but Anne still felt the ghost of his warm grip, and unconsciously clenched her fingers. Before he entered, he grinned at her, a lopsided, smug smile, and Anne stayed in the doorway for a long moment, quite unsure what to think.
And, despite Cole being about fifteen feet away from her, she found herself already composing another letter:
“ Dear Cole,
I simply do not understand boys at all. ”