The unforgiving winter had at last given weigh to a dewy spring sometime in mid-April, and a slight chill hung in the air like a thick, damp blanket over Green Gables. It was a clear night, crisp and still, and you were up in your room as you usually were at this late hour, perched in front of the vanity attempting to detangle your wayward locks with a silver comb. Though it was still somewhat short, that slightly awkward growing-out length, the rough coastal winds that rolled off the sea and stirred the little isle you called home never failed to create quite the knotted mess. You were so preoccupied that you almost didn't notice the muted, sporadic tapping sounds that seemed to be coming from somewhere in your room. Slowly, you set the comb down onto the vanity tray and looked around, being as still and quiet as possible so as to hear the noise again. A few moments passed in silence, but then there it was. Tap. This time, you could identify the sound as the soft thud of something hitting your window. You stood, cautiously approaching the window and hesitating a moment before lifting it open. There was nothing but the familiar hum of nocturnal insects chirping and buzzing in the still darkness.

"Hello?" you asked quietly, not really expecting an answer at all. It had been a long day, and your weary mind was likely just imagining things.

"What light through yonder window breaks?" a familiar voice called out from below.

You jumped at the sudden response with a sharp gasp, but your surprise was soon replaced with a wash of relief, accompanied by that familiar warm and fluttery feeling in your abdomen.

"Gilbert?" You leaned out of the open window, squinting as you tried to make out his features in the warm glow of light that emanated from your room onto the grass below. "What are you doing?"

"With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls," He continued, stepping forward into the light, tossing a pebble up and catching it in his hand repeatedly. His voice grew slightly louder and his inflection slightly more dramatic. "FOR STONY LIMITS CANNOT HOLD LOVE OUT-"

"SHHH!" you whisper-hissed, cutting him off. "You're going to wake everyone!"

He wore a devilish smirk now, leaning himself up against the tree in your yard and milking that boyish charm of his for all it was worth. "And if thou's kinsmen find me, what will'st they do? kill me?"

"Lady Marilla will'st chase thee off with a broom, more like." You rolled your eyes and stifled a giggle.

"By a name, I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself," He continued to recite, struggling up the old dogwood tree until he was right outside your open window. "Because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word."

"You're hopeless," you said, no longer able to fight the smile you'd been attempting to keep at bay.

Gilbert nodded, a smile creeping onto his lips. "I know," he said. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, the way he always did, like you were the only two people on earth. He then pulled away, leaning his arm on your window frame for support. "Come out with me."

"I can't, you know I'm still on house arrest," you replied, gazing down at his hand that rested just next to your knee on the windowsill and gently grazing it with the back of your fingers. It had been quite a long time since you and Gilbert had seen each other, let alone be in the exclusive company of one another-- sometimes, if you could steal a moment away from the watchful eye of Mrs. Cuthbert, you could briefly (and prudently) convene in the churchyard on Sundays, but that was a rare luxury. You had yet to return to school for spring classes with the other children either, but would instead catch up on studies with Diana a few afternoons each week so as not to fall behind. Ever since the little mishap last winter after John Blythe's funeral, Marilla had enacted a rigid punishment that involved an indefinite grounding that had still yet to be lifted or even spoken of. Secretly, you think she just liked having you around for your company.

"So?" he leaned his head up against the window frame and pouted his bottom lip in an exaggeratedly petulant kind of way.

"So, I can't!" you reiterated, though it was already clear his relentlessness was not going to waver even despite your fervent protestation. He responded by huffing dramatically and slumping his shoulders as if this was the most disappointing news he'd ever received in his entire life.

"Come on, Y/N, just for an hour. She'll never even know you were gone," he continued adamantly, and you knew it was decided the instant he peered up at you from behind a tangle of loose dark curls with those big doe eyes, their soft shade of brown melting over you like warm molasses and taking with them whatever resolve you might have had in refusing his offer.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," you started to giggle, pointing an accusing finger at him that he quickly cupped in his own hands, tangling your fingers together. "That's not fair, and you know it!"

He completely ignored these qualms and only leaned in to kiss you gently, and you found yourself rendered unable to protest any further. Gingerly taking your wrist in his hand, he helped you down from the window, supporting you by the waist to make sure you didn't stumble as the two of you clambered down the massive old tree. Your heart hammered raucously inside your ribs from both the fear of getting caught and the exhilaration of doing something you're not supposed to.

"Will you at least tell me where we're going?" you asked, trace amounts of skepticism in your voice as he led you down the hillside in the dark. You were suddenly very aware that you were in your thin cotton nightgown, trodding barefoot through the cold, wet grass-- the fact that a few kisses and some regurgitated poetry could make you entirely overlook these things until this moment both embarrassed and vexed you, but that was just Gilbert Blythe. The pair of you finally came to a stop before the familiar silhouette of his horse in the pale moonlight.

"Just trust me," he said, his voice calm and smooth. Though it was dark, you could feel the warm grin on his face, which was just inches from yours as he turned around to face you. Then, in one clean movement, he turned and hoisted himself up into the saddle, extending his arm down to help you up as well. His crooked half-smile was still present. "Come on."

You looked at his hand for a moment before rolling your eyes and taking it in your own, and the strength that suddenly tugged you upward surprised you enough to provoke a small squeak. Next thing you knew, you were nestled in the saddle right behind Gilbert, your hands naturally resting on his waist. He urged the horse forward, and the pair of you were off; the even rhythm of the horse's steps beneath you, the way it gently rocked you back and forth, the melody of the wind tenderly rustling the grass below in perfect harmony with the chorus of chirping crickets, combined with the warmth that radiated from Gilbert's skin even beneath his thick wool sweater-- it was all so perfect. It was enough to nearly lull you to sleep right then and there. You were, actually, just a bit sleepy-- the fact that it was so late had also slipped your mind earlier. Merely seeing Gilbert again after these past few months of isolation was enough to make you forget just about anything.

After some time, he tugged up on the reins softly slowing the horse to a walk, and you were growing increasingly more impatient and heavy-lidded.

"Gil, would you please just tell me where we're going?" you whined, resting your chin on his shoulder in a huff.

He only shook his head in reply, and though you couldn't see his face, you knew for a fact he still had that irritatingly charming little smirk plastered across it. "Just a bit further, I promise."

Eventually, the animal came to a complete stop, and he got down first before turning to assist you. He surprised you once again by placing his hands around your waist and gently lifting you before setting you on the ground, almost like one would do with a small child. You were suddenly grateful for the inky darkness around you, because you felt the blood in your face quickly heating up your cheeks and likely turning them every rosy hue imaginable. It was so dark in fact that you couldn't really make out where you were, the landscape only illuminated by the sliver of moon that hung overhead. In attempt to orient yourself, you noted the gentle sounds of cattails and marsh grasses being rustled in the night breeze all around you, and also a familiar aquatic smell in the air; he had taken you the lake. He was leading you by the hand now, seemingly trying to find a specific spot.

"Okay, right about here. No, wait--" He moved one step over. "Here."

You looked around and then back at him, quizzically. "What is it?"

"Just think about it," He reassured you.

It took a moment before it finally set in-- this was the spot where the two of you had met, that golden summer day of the Avonlea picnic that now seemed worlds away.

"I see," you chuckled. "That's very sweet, Gil."

There was a long silence as you faced each other in the dark, the tranquil droning of cicadas and crickets seemingly lulling you into a near-embrace. As your face lingered just below his, achingly close, Gilbert broke from the dreamlike trance that had befallen the pair of you and spoke.

"Come, I brought you something," he said in a whisper, his warm breath buzzing in your ear. He stepped away from you and untied a tan knapsack from the saddle of his horse and pulled from it a thick woven blanket, and a small brass telescope, which he placed in your hand. You looked down at the cold metal object, examining its intricate engravings. It was absolutely beautiful.

"It's the perfect night to see stars," he said, spreading the blanket out on the grass. "--and I thought you might need some cheering up." He gave a goofy, boyish grin before lying down and patting the spot next to him.

"I don't know what to say, Gil," you said with an exhale, glancing at the telescope once more before joining Gilbert on the blanket. You leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his warm cheek. "It's perfect."

The two of you lay there beneath the expanse of the inkwell-black sky for hours, identifying the various patterns in the stars and engaging in tender but lively conversation. It was the first time in months you had felt like this-- so calm, so safe from the world. So in love. So tangled up in one another, topics of discussion flowing as naturally and effortlessly as the river at your feet, the world around you falling away.

"Y/N?" Gilbert spoke after some time, in a low, quiet voice.

"Hm?" you hummed.

"Would you marry me?"

"What?" You sat straight up and looked over at him, bewildered and mistrusting of your own ears. He looked entirely unfazed by your reaction as he lay on his back and smiled lazily, the pale moonlight draped so delicately over his features so that they were just barely discernible. "Gilbert, we're practically children!"

He sat halfway up now, too, propping himself up with his elbow as he faced you. "Well, yeah, I know that, but I asked would you. Hypothetically, someday."

You fell quiet, giving the matter of moment of thought. It's not like this notion had never crept into your mind before, in some late hour of the evening as you stare at the ceiling of your bedroom, but hearing the words actually escape his lips was enough to make your heart nearly jump from your throat. Without too much deliberation, you shyly replied, "Well, yes."

It was difficult to tell, being that it was so dark, but you could make out a big, toothy grin on his face. "I have an idea," he began, sitting up completely and inching closer to you. "Not now, of course, but someday. We'll promise each other." You could make out his hands reaching into the grass, plucking up bits of it and then knotting them together. He took your left hand in his, and gently slid the makeshift ring onto your fourth finger.

You held up your hand, examining it in the moonlight before turning your head to meet Gilbert's eyes. "Someday," you whispered.

"I promise," he said. He leaned over and planted a long kiss on your forehead, before taking your hand once again and intertwining his fingers with yours. The two of you stayed like that for an inestimable period of time, only parting from one another when the black of night gave way to a breathtaking royal blue and a sliver of dawn rose over the horizon, casting a cool glow on everything below it. It was then that, in a daze from both your somnolence and utter gaiety, Gilbert took you home, and helped you safely back into your window. You kissed him a prolonged goodbye at the windowsill, each unwilling to let go of the other, until a caw of a distant rooster finally reawakened your sense of urgency. You watched him ride away until his silhouette was swallowed by the landscape, and finally collapsed to your bed in a state of dizzyingly satisfying romantic delirium. Someday, Someday. That one little word spiraled in your mind until you could no longer think at all, and drifted off into a deep slumber.