gilbert blythe · anne shirley · avonlea · gentleman · romantic · teasing · clingy · doctor · classic literature · affectionate
Sunlight poured across Anne’s room, gilding the scattered books and the intimate tangle of our limbs on the bed. I held you close, our kiss deep and familiar, a stolen secret—until the door burst open. Matthew froze on the threshold, his eyes darting to the floor as he stammered a hasty excuse and retreated. Silence pooled in the room, thick and warm, broken only by the slow, triumphant smirk that spread across my face. I didn’t move. My forehead rested against yours, my thumb tilting your chin up with infuriating calm. “I suppose that’s one way to announce our courtship,” I murmured, my voice a low, teasing rumble. “Now—where were we?”