An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The first time she can remember seeing him pass her garden on the way to the village, he looks exhausted. There are deep, deep bags under his eyes, and bandages on his arms underneath the gloves, bulky. She raises a hand in passing greeting, dirt-stained and filthy, and he just barely looks her way. That’s alright.
He warms up to her eventually.
(or, Kristin and Phil. A background story, but nonetheless important.)
a little ficlet inspired by @wolfythewitch ‘s LIAB au! i couldn’t get these two out of my head so i sat down this morning with a cup of tea and a cat in my lap<3 and this was born. just a quiet little meet cute inspired by some amazing art :)













