Work Text:
Gilbert had really nice lips, actually.
Anne hadn’t meant to stare, but he had been going on quite the passionate tangent about the world of doctors, and her eyes just happened to slip down to his lips.
They were red and plump from talking so much. They looked almost as though he had rubbed them with rouge to add a bit of colour. She’d seen them turn red before - especially during the winter, when the cold pressed itself against any skin it could find - but this red was different. It was the type of red that you wanted to kiss to see if they tasted of apples, or touch to see if they felt as soft as strawberries.
Anne imagined his lips were so red because they were filled with stories. As each story pushed and pulled against each other to be let out, they plumped up his lips until they were red and swollen, ready to be spilled out at a moment’s notice. The thought alone was endearing enough to keep her eyes locked firmly to his lips. When had they become so alluring?
He kept talking, not to anyone specific but also not just to himself. He looked around the room, caught the eyes of those who were genuinely interested, and moved those lips around fresh words that spilled out of his mouth and landed on eager ears.
When he was finished speaking, or maybe when Anne finally snapped out of her reverie, Gilbert twisted his lips up into a gorgeous smile that only forced one’s eyes to acknowledge how crimson they looked. He said something in a bashful manner and sat back down.
Only then did Anne realise that they were in school, and Gilbert had been reciting an essay on his chosen vocation to the class.
Miss Stacy thanked him for his contribution, then called on Anne for her own essay. She froze, totally unprepared and all too preoccupied with Gilbert’s lips still, despite minutes having passed since he was stood in front of the class.
“Anne?” Miss Stacy called again when she made no move to stand up.
It took a gentle nudge from Diana to finally get Anne moving. She scrambled to her feet, reached for her essay rather clumsily, and stumbled to the front of the class with more tripping over her own feet than general walking.
Everyone noticed Anne’s odd behaviour. It was hard not to, especially when she was typically so confident with a strong personality. There were confused looks shared as her classmates wondered what had gotten to flustered.
If only they knew it was Gilbert’s red lips.
She stammered and stuttered through her essay with as much grace as a baby learning to walk. It took her several attempts just to say a few words, and in the end Miss Stacy let her sit down on the account of her believing Anne was ill. She wasn’t ill, but she gratefully took the pass and hurried back to her seat. She ignored the worried look Gilbert gave her as she sat down. She tried even harder to ignore his lips.
They weren’t that interesting this morning! They had talked before class, and Anne had barely given Gilbert’s lips a second thought. Now, they were all she could think about. What in the world could have changed in the matter of a few hours to get her so frazzled? He hadn’t done anything remotely remarkable to spark a change of heart.
By the end of the day, Anne’s face was on fire. Her cheeks had been burning for a good three hours, to the point where Miss Stacy thought she was coming down with something. As she dismissed them for the end of class, she called upon Anne and Gilbert, much to the fear of Anne, who believed that one more look at Gilbert and she would pass out.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Anne,” Miss Stacy said. “You’ve been looking worse as the day has progressed, and now your face has flushed to a rather concerning colour.”
“I’m fine, Miss Stacy,” Anne fried to say, but she was cut off with the raise of a hand.
“I’d like to think that I know what you’re like, and I don’t want to hear any excuses. You don’t have to pretend like you’re not sick.”
“But I’m not!”
Miss Stacy ignored her. “Gilbert, would you be so kind as to walk Anne home, please? I’d do so myself, but I have a few things to do here, and I know you two live fairly close to each other. Is that alright?”
“Nobody needs to walk me home. I’m fine!”
“I’d be more than happy to,” Gilbert said. He turned to Anne with a concerned look on his face, but of course, all Anne could concentrate on was his soft lips.
She felt her face flush even further. One more time and she would be a step away from making those around her believe she was dying. This was a horrible day indeed.
“Thank you, Gilbert, I appreciate it very much. And Anne? Please don’t be afraid to stay home tomorrow if you’re ill. I completely understand and you won’t miss out on any work. I can always have someone drop off your books if need be.”
“Miss Stacy, I promise you I’m fine,” Anne insisted. “I’m not ill, and nobody needs to walk me home. It’s just a bit hot is all.”
“I’d feel better if Gilbert walked you home nevertheless.”
Anne huffed and rolled her eyes. Her reaction made Gilbert smile, which made her squirm on the inside.
In true Anne fashion, she put as much distance between herself and Gilbert during the walk home. When he got too close for her liking, she’d take off and stomp her way through the woods as quickly as she could. Gilbert Blythe was not going to be the end of her.
”Anne, what’s the rush?” Gilbert called from behind her. “You’re ill, you need to slow down!”
”I’m not ill!” She called back. “Leave me alone, Gilbert.”
A hand gripped her shoulder and forced her to turn around. She stumbled over an uprooted stick, narrowly avoiding falling back into the dirt if it weren’t for Gilbert’s tight grip on her upper body. Her eyes found his lips and and ducked her head. They were just as red as before, if not a darker, richer colour.
”What’s going on, Anne?” Gilbert said quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper.
She shuddered. That voice was coming from those lips, and those lips would ultimately be the death of her. Anne didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to rip herself from Gilbert’s grip and run the rest of the way home, but the irrational side so desperately wanted to stay in his arms. They were pressed to closely together like this, which meant that Anne could look up at his lips without fear of being called out.
Anne took a deep breath and pushed herself up on her toes. Gilbert frowned but didn’t pull away, which encouraged Anne forward. She raised herself up until she was close enough to Gilbert’s lips to feel his stuttered breaths come out in pants against her own lips.
”I’m going to kiss you now,” Anne whispered against Gilbert’s cheek. “Do I have your permission?”
He let out a soft whine. “Yes.”
Gilbert’s lips were softer than strawberries. They tasted sweeter than the sweetest apple on earth. They were both hot as cold, like standing outside on a winter’s day with a cup of tea in your hands.
Anne lost herself in the kiss. It was better than she could have ever imagined. Gilbert, beautiful Gilbert with his brain full of knowledge and his heart ready to give. Gilbert, with his strong hands but soft touch. Gilbert, with his hard stare but loving eyes. Gilbert’s lips on Anne’s lips, and it was perfect.
She let out a soft sigh, bordering on a moan, as Gilbert pushed them back against a tree. They were still kissing, having not relented and probably not planning on it any time soon. Anne didn’t care. She could feel Gilbert moving beneath her, could feel his arms wrapping around her waist and squeezing tight, and she was in heaven.
Gilbert pulled away with a quick tug to Anne’s bottom lip between his teeth. Her knees buckled and she groaned. God, where did he learn a move like that, and how did she get more?
”Is that why you’ve been so flustered today?” Gilbert asked. His eyes were bright with excitement. “You’ve been wanting to kiss me?”
Anne couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed. She nodded her head eagerly and placed a soft kiss to Gilbert’s jaw. “Yes, very much so. As you were reading your essay, I couldn’t stop looking at your lips.”
”Thank goodness I didn’t stop talking, then.”
”Thank goodness indeed.”
They leaned in at the same time and began kissing once more, soft and slow, learning the curve and taste of each other’s mouth. Anne laced her arms around Gilbert’s neck and tugged at the bottom of his hair. He gasped, then deepened the kiss between them.
It wasn’t perfect. Neither of them had kissed before, so they were still learning. But Anne didn’t want perfect. She wanted the true authenticity of kissing Gilbert for the first time. She wanted the reality of being inexperienced and learning what she preferred as the kiss developed. She wanted Gilbert, in all his courage and shyness, going slow at first, only to become more confident as Anne reacted well to the kiss.
When they finally pulled away again, Anne zoned in on Gilbert’s lips. They were the darkest red she had ever seen. They were swollen and thick; not because he had stories to tell, but because he had kisses to give. She’d never seen a more beautiful sight. He looked marvellous.
She reached up and placed a small kiss to the edge of his mouth. He shuddered in front of her, his head dropping down to try and catch her lips. Anne giggled.
Gilbert had really nice lips, actually.