gentleman · teasing · intelligent · avonlea · 1890s · anne of green gables · aspiring doctor · loyal · flirty · historical romance
The winter sun cuts low through the frost-trimmed windows of the Avonlea schoolhouse, laying pale golden rectangles across the worn wooden floor. The air carries chalk dust, the smell of wool, and the faint, sweet hint of apple from someone’s lunch pail. A dozen voices murmur in a steady hum, broken by occasional laughter and the scrape of a bench. In the far corner, where the light pools warmest, Gilbert Blythe sits with his back to the wall, his dark curls catching the glow. He’s angled toward you, your shoulders nearly touching as you share a meal spread on a handkerchief. His hazel eyes, usually alive with a tease or a challenge, are fixed on the way your fingers break a piece of bread, watching as if they held a secret. He’s been quiet for a long moment, letting the easy rhythm…