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It wasn’t that the good doctor always had all the answers, but he happened to have many of them. Very often.
Few things made Anne as annoyed as Gilbert’s smug face, aware that he had made a good point and that Anne had no rebuttal.
If you asked Gilbert of course, he’d tell you that few things brought him the joy of rising to Anne’s challenges. She kept him on his toes, and he thought it made him smarter. Maybe he hoped so.
It had started with something small - as it always does. Anne had gotten a cold from staying up at all hours, studying and writing for her exams. Gilbert usually steered clear of the apartment on days like these, but it had been nearly a week and he needed at the very least a change of clothes. Preferably a hot shower after which he could dry off with his own towel.
Anne glared at him as he walked into the shared living space (she refused to call it a living room, seeing as it had no walls defining where the living space finished and the kitchen began.) Gilbert quickly noticed that Anne was not at her best, in fact, she was probably miles away from the bare minimum needed to function.
“Oh, Anne.” He started.
“No patronising tone!” she stated sharply, “I’m fine, I just need to cover these last 4 pages and I’m done for the study session.”
“...After which you are taking a shower and a nap?” Gilbert prodded gently.
“No, after which I’ve got a bathroom break and then I’ll be moving on to Principles of Speech and Approaches to Education.” She stubbornly replied.
Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he needed was to argue with Anne about self-care, but he really didn’t feel like missing a week of classes taking care of her when she would inevitably make herself sick with stress.
“Hygiene and sleep are most crucial in order to create an environment conducive to learning, I’m sure you know that.”
Anne whirled around to snap at him.
“I don’t need your lectures, Gilbert. Really, I am perfectly fine.” She punctuated her declaration with a sniffle, allowing Gilbert a glimpse of the exhaustion apparent on her face.
Honestly, this was just about the last thing he needed right now. He had his own studying to do, and Anne was not exactly known for being compliant and passively accepting his advice. Sighing, he realised an aggressive strategy was in order.
“Fine. I won’t fight you for it.”
A sneaky strategy.
Anne smiled, crinkling her sleep-heavy corners of her eyes.
“Thank you Gilbert. See? You know that I’m right,” she haughtily said, “I’ll be right back, and if you want to be a right dear, I would actually appreciate a cup of coffee.”
He gave her a tight smile, the gears in his head turning.
...
“Gilbert?! Where are my books?!”
Acting quickly, Gilbert swiftly dove into the bathroom, hiding behind the door.
“In here Anne!”
Anne stalked back into the bathroom, looking like a child that had both missed their nap and been told that they could not have anything from the store.
Deftly closing the door behind her, Gilbert kept his back to the door, essentially barricading himself in with the rampaging bull.
“What are you doing?! Can’t you see I’m stressed?! I need to finish studying, what are you doing?!” Anne ranted.
“Staging an intervention,” Gilbert explained, continuing before Anne could let out a huff of disbelief, “we’re not leaving until you’ve properly bathed.”
Anne balked in protest.
“We? There is no we. You need to leave. And let me leave. Now.”
“I’m here to make sure you don’t drown the minute your brain stops working at 120 percent.” He explained.
“Don’t worry, I’ll turn around until you tell me it’s safe to look.” Gilbert promised.
Anne’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know I won’t hit you upside the head and make my escape?” she inquired.
Gilbert chuckled. “I guess I’ll have to trust that you’re too tired to cause me any bodily harm right now.”
Anne shrugged.
“Alright, fine. But only if you quiz me while I’m taking this small, teeny break.”
Gilbert agreed to her terms and turned around. A few minutes later, he heard Anne call his name.
“You can turn around now.”
Gilbert isn’t sure what he expected, he already knew Anne is gorgeous. However, he hadn’t imagined the great effect of soapy-suds surrounding her skin. Trying to shrug off the feeling, he asked her about her studies, convincing her that explaining to someone else would be just as effective as quizzing her incessantly. He was happy to listen to her talk about her different strategies, filing some of them away, for his own study-sessions later. He even managed to divert the conversation to more personal issues than where she bought her highlighters.
Until Anne lightly dozed while they reminisced in their high-school cram sessions, and her head lolled slightly to the side. And then more to the side. Her head was slowly dipping into the bath water.
Gilbert noticed in time that she was close to underwater, but reversing her predicament proved more difficult than he had anticipated. Her entire body had shifted down, her shoulders well below the water’s edge. Dragging her back to safety involved, unfortunately, excessive touching of her… upper body.
Anne woke from the jostling, staring at Gilbert’s hands as if they were repeating offenders of her personal space, and not the intervention needed to keep her from drowning.
Gilbert apologised, of course, but Anne would not let go of her suspicious glare.
Deep down, she wondered how it would have felt if the bathtub were big enough to accommodate him as well, how it would have felt to be held by him fully, intentionally.