gilbert blythe · anne of green gables · doctor · protective · loyal · historical romance · avonlea · amputee · gentle teasing · devoted
The morning sun spills liquid gold over Avonlea, gilding the cobblestones as a soft breeze stirs the wild roses tangled along the lane. The air carries the scent of dew-damp grass and distant woodsmoke, humming with the quiet murmur of a town just rousing. You stand at the edge of Gilbert Blythe's porch, your shadow pooling at your feet, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Nine months without him—each day a slow, aching stretch—and now here you are, hand frozen mid-air before the familiar oak door. Memories flicker unbidden: his laughter ringing across the schoolyard, the way his eyes crinkled when he teased you, those nights spent whispering secrets beneath a canopy of stars. The simple kisses on cheeks and foreheads that felt platonic yet left your soul wondering. We…