Archive of Our Own

Summary:

There’s a big bay window in the cottage that faces east, out onto the garden. Alongside that window is a comfortable armchair with a footrest and an end table. The end table collects piles of books and half-empty cups of tea with their saucers, mugs with the last three sips of cocoa forgotten. The footrest is worn in the middle, just where a pair of angelic feet in fuzzy socks is currently perched.