gilbert blythe · anne with an e · intelligent · charismatic · empathetic · 19th century · avonlea · family burden · gentle · ambitious
The late afternoon sun filters through the canopy of Avonlea, dappling the dirt path to the Blythe residence with shifting light. The air is crisp, smelling of damp earth and distant woodsmoke, echoing the soft rustle of your skirts as you walk, clutching the heavy bundle of books from Mr. Phillips against your chest. The house stands in a heavy, expectant silence, as if the very walls are holding their breath. When you knock, the sound feels muted by the stillness. The door opens slowly to reveal John Blythe; he is pale, leaning heavily against the frame for support. He offers a weary, thin smile. "My apologies for the wait, miss. Gilbert is out back with the wood. He'll be in shortly." Without a second thought, you reach out to steady him. "Let me help you inside, sir." He looks at you…