Close Proximity -Anne With An E-

That night, Gilbert couldn't sleep. His mind was fixed on Anne. The moonlight shone in through the window, reminding him of how that same light looked highlighting the planes of Anne's face the other night.

How is it possible for one to be so irrevocably drawn to another?

----

Anne tosses once again in the sheets, the memory of Gilbert's lips on her cheek seering her skin. This is ridiculous, she thinks, finally getting up to go fetch a cup of water.

The auburnette creeps down the steps, careful not to wake the others in the house. Humming quietly as she enters the kitchen, she finds a glass in the cupboard, turning toward the icebox to see she is not alone.

Seeming the broad-shouldered boy had the same idea as her, the water pitcher already sits out on the counter. "Gilbert," she whispers, "I didn't see you there."

"I noticed," he says with a small smile, "though the humming was nice."

Anne blushes, grateful for the low lighting of the kitchen. "I'm a bit parched, if you don't mind..." she trails off.

"Hmm?" Gilbert inquires, caught off guard by her reaching for him.

Coming within inches of the taller boy, Anne looks up, "The, uh," she swallows, "the water pitcher is behind you." she breathes.

It still takes a second for Gilbert's brain to connect the dots while Anne reaches behind him, bringing their bodies close enough to feel each others' warmth. "Water" Gilbert repeats, his voice a little hoarse.

Anne giggles a little, breaking the spell, "Yeah, water. Are you sure you're really second in our class?"

Shaking himself a little he steps away, "No, I'm not second in the class," Anne raises a brow as she sips her water, "I believe I'm actually first."

Anne coughs a little, "And I believe you are mistaken, Mr. Blythe."

Gilbert nimbly takes the empty cup from Anne's fingers, smirking. "Boys who are top of their classes are rarely mistaken."

Reaching to put the cup on the rack, Gilbert unknowingly brings his body close to hers, close enough for her to smell the soap from his bath the previous evening. The motion of pulling back causes his chest muscles (which Anne was not looking at) to move in an almost hypnotic way.

The lull in the conversation draws both of their attention to how close they are to one another.

The silvery light of the moon washes in through the window, illuminating the pair. Gilbert swallows, "Anne," he whispers, "has anyone told you how beautiful you are?"

She looks at him, speechless. "What?" she asks, "No, Gilbert, 'beautiful' is not the word most people use to describe me."

Gilbert brings his hand up to cup her cheek, mesmerized by the girl in front of him, his features drawn in honest incredulity. "That seems, to me, a crime. Because you are beautiful, Anne. I've thought so from the first moment I saw you."

The redhead stands frozen, staring at the hazel eyed boy. Finally she smiles, gently wrapping her fingers into the fabric of his nightshirt, "Are you just going to stare at me?"

Shaking his head slowly, a smile spreads across his face, "No." And Gilbert kisses her.

Anne smiles into the kiss, pulling the taller boy closer. Lightning and fire burn through their bodies, igniting in their bellies. They tell each other the feelings they've kept quiet in the way they drown themselves in the other.

Gilbert's hand finds Anne's loose hair, combing his fingers through the short strands. Anne breathes in his scent, feels his warmth, his skin. She whispers his name against his lips, shooting fire through his body.

"Well it's about time you two stopped being so dense." Bash's voice startles them apart.