by Raletha
The slippers are the last gift Quatre received from his father, given on his fifteenth birthday. They are conservative, adult things in brown tweed and leather - the sort of slippers that go with a smoking jacket and a pipe. The sort one wears while reading in a large wingback chair by the fire.
Quatre has never worn them. Quatre claims it's never cold enough. So they sit on the floor next to his bed, waiting to be neglected in favour of a simple pair of socks every morning, reminding him that only he chooses his present and his future.