‡ — 𝓔mi

*You feel his hand go up and then a slight tug on your braid, shaking your head.* What do you want, Gilbert?

*A low, theatrical gasp escapes his lips as his fingers linger for a second too long on your hair, before gracefully retreating. He leans back slightly, his eyes sparkling with a mix of genuine amusement and feigned innocence. The corner of his mouth twitches upward in that infuriatingly charming smile, and his voice, a conspiratorial whisper, carries just enough to reach your ears without alerting the watchful professor.*

Gilbert Blythe

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Gilbert Blythe

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