You opened your eyes to the soft, hazy glow of early daylight. The air was crisply frigid, but you were enveloped in warmth. Your head was dizzy with confusion and you had to blink your eyes a few times to see clearly; the memory of last night slowly drifted back to you and your blood ran cold with grave realization- it was morning. 

"Oh my GOD!" You abruptly sat up, holding the sides of your head as you tried to gather yourself. Your groggy brain was struggling to process what was going on. Gilbert was still asleep next to you, his arms outstretched over your form. You wriggled free of his grip, standing up and frantically searching through the hay for your hat and coat. 

"Hm?" Gilbert stirred, blinking a few times as he woke up. "Where are you going?"

"Gil, we fell asleep! God, Marilla is going to have my head." Your hands were shaking with panic as you quickly donned your coat, pieces of straw stuck to the fabric as well as in your hair. Gilbert stood now too, staggering sleepily towards you. 

"Hey, wait." As you turned to climb down from the hayloft he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. He looked into your eyes for what seemed like ages before planting a kiss on your forehead. You relaxed into the warmth of his chest, allowing yourself to soak up this one last moment before you had to go home and face the inevitable demise that awaited you.

-- 

Rachel Lynde sat by the window on the second floor of her home working on a piece of cross-stitch, as she usually did early on Sunday mornings. It was a quiet morning in Avonlea, and she hadn't much planned besides attending church that afternoon and perhaps having tea with Marilla afterward. She sat thoughtfully as she worked until something very peculiar outside caught her eye; it was the Cuthberts' orphan girl looking terribly unkempt and running, homebound, with all of her might. Rachel nearly dropped her loom. Where had she been? Why on earth was that feral child tearing through the hills so early in the morning? Rachel had never shuffled down the stairs to grab her coat so quickly in her life. By the time she was outside the girl was already long past, but that didn't stop Mrs. Lynde from fervently beginning the short hike up to Green Gables. 

-- 

After bidding Gilbert a bittersweet goodbye, you quite literally hit the ground running and did not stop until you reached the familiar snowy pastures of Green Gables. The floorboards creaked as you stepped onto the porch, and you hesitated for only a brief moment as your fingers touched the cold brass door handle, taking a deep breath before swinging the door open.

"Marilla?" you called out urgently. Marilla and Matthew were sitting at the kitchen table and stood immediately upon seeing you. Neither of them looked like they had slept. 

"Good heavens, child! Where have you been?" Marilla's tone was half-scornful and half-relieved. The two of them rushed over to you, and Marilla immediately hugged you close to her, then pulled away and gripped both sides of your face. "We were worried absolutely sick!"

You felt your eyes begin to water. "I know, I'm so sorry," you sniffled, wiping the hot stream of tears with your coat sleeve. "I fell asleep at the Blythes' house, I didn't mean to. It was an accident! I really am sorry." you looked down at your boots, the tips just peeking out from under the muddied hem of your dress. 

Marilla opened her mouth to speak but then quickly shut it, looking at the state of you. "Accident or not, I expect you to be more responsible than this." she sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. "God, what until-" she was interrupted by a sudden, frantic knocking at the door. "And there it is. Go up to your room and get cleaned up. This is not over." She pointed at you sternly. You obeyed immediately, shamefully walking over to the staircase. "And make yourself comfortable, that's where you'll be spending many of your days to come!" she called after you. As you ascended the wooden staircase you heard the familiar voice of the notorious town gossip, Rachel Lynde. 

"Marilla, thank heaven. You will not believe what I witnessed this morning." Rachel spoke seriously as she invited herself inside. Matthew awkwardly excused himself to the den as the two women had a seat at the kitchen table. 

"Is that so?" Marilla mused nonchalantly as she poured tea. 

Rachel leaned in over the table and whispered as if she was delivering urgent news. "I was doing some sewing this morning when out of my window I saw a creature tear across my yard that bore a striking resemblance to your wayward little pet. On a Sunday morning!" she looked scandalized. 

Marilla seemed unfazed. "Yes, we're dealing with it." she calmly responded, setting the china teacup gently back down onto its saucer. 

"What on earth happened?"

"It would seem our (Y/N) spent the night at the Blythe house. It was an honest accident, I'm sure. Yesterday was very taxing for everyone." Marilla gravely looked down into her cup of earl grey. 

"Spent the night?" Rachel seemed to almost fall out her chair. "Marilla, are you sure you haven't bitten off more than you can chew with this one?" she began to whisper now, "First the cross-dressing, and now this, this fraternization?" 

Marilla laughed at the notion. "It was an innocent mistake. I'm not angry over that part, in particular, those two have always been good friends. However (Y/N) didn't obey orders, which was to be home before dark, and for that, she'll face the due consequences. But she's a good girl. A bright girl. She didn't mean any harm." 

"Well, I should hope not." Rachel scowled, taking a sip of tea. The topic was soon changed and the two carried on their banter, covering all of Avonlea's fresh gossip. 

-- 

Up in your room, you lay sprawled across your bed, tangled up in the crisp sheets as you stared apathetically at the ceiling. You still wore your muddy dress, which was wet and cold and clung to your skin. While you were relieved to be home, part of you was still up in that hayloft. Hazy, warmly-lit memories of yesterday lingered in your mind, sending a rabble of butterflies through the tightly-wound knots in your stomach. You loved him madly. You missed him terribly. There was a pang of melancholic despair deep in your chest as you realized that you would likely be grounded for a long time, and wouldn't be able to be there for him now when surely he needed you most. Apart from that, school would be starting again soon, and it would be your first time attending as a girl. You felt that things would likely be different now, but you knew one thing that would always be a solid, unwavering constant: the feelings you had for Gilbert Blythe.