Andrew and Ashley had always believed that some decisions happened for a reason.
Marriage had been one of those decisions. Standing at the altar two years ago, his long black hair tied neatly behind him, pale hands folded together.
As he watched Ashley walk toward him, her long wavy black hair rest against her white wedding dress.
He knew he was making the best decision of his life.
But adoption felt different.
"Do you think we're ready?" Ashley had asked once, her eyes searching his face.
Andrew hadn't answered right away. He thought more about. "I think," he'd said finally, "that we're as ready as we'll ever be.
And now, walking down the narrow hallway of a government building as the lights flickered overhead, Andrew adjusted the cuffs of his black suit and felt his chest tighten.
Ashley walked beside him, her sundress swaying slightly with each step. She looked softer today than she usually did. Her hair covered most of her face, and there was a nervous brightness in her eyes that Andrew had come to recognize.
She reached for his hand. "I'm getting nervous. What will happen if-?" she whispered.
Andrew cut her off. "Don't be. We did well in the interview stage and filled the paperwork. We waited quite a long time for this."
She frowned slightly, squeezing his fingers. "No, I mean. What if he doesn't like it with us."
As they reached the end of the hall, the door begun to open with a quiet creak.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hale?" a woman called.
Andrew straightened. Ashley inhaled.
Together, they stepped forward.
Frost sat on the edge of a plastic chair, hands resting on his knees as his head rest gently on his knee.
Full birthname was Frost Lotus. A fourteen-year-old boy with naturally white hair fell messily over his forehead. His blue eyes were the brightest anyone has seen and had a uniqueness to it.
He watched the door without moving.
After years of being in different foster home. He knows, eventually people came and leave. He had learned a long time ago that reacting didn't change outcomes.
When Andrew and Ashley entered the room, Frost felt it before he felt it—a shift in the air, subtle but undeniable. He lifted his gaze slowly, eyes flicking over them.
Andrew: pale, tall, dressed neatly, dark green eyes calm. He wasn't sure whether he was the serious type or not, but he looked safe.
Ashley: warm, expressive, her presence brighter somehow. He knows that she will try to make him comfortable the most.
But the one uncanny thing about them, was their aura.
"Frost?" Ashley said gently, stepping forward.
The sound of his name always felt strange when spoken by someone else. An unusual name that fit him perfectly.
"Yes," he replied.
His voice was quiet.
Ashley's smile wavered, just a little, as if she wasn't sure how close to stand. Andrew noticed that and subtly moved to her side, close enough to be reassuring without being overwhelming.
"I'm Ashley," she said. "And this is Andrew."
Andrew inclined his head. "It's good to finally meet you."
Frost studied them for a long moment again.
Then he nodded once, "Good to meet you."
---
The ride to the apartment was quiet.
Andrew drove with one hand steady on the wheel. Ashley sat in the passenger seat, glancing back every so often, fighting the urge to fill the silence with words. Frost sat in the back, hands folded in his lap, eyes fixed on the window.
He'd been in cars like this before. With people who promised things. With people who smiled too much.
He waited for the questions.
None came.
Andrew focused on the road. Ashley hummed softly under her breath, some tune Frost didn't recognize. The absence of pressure was unsettling.
When the car finally slowed and pulled into a small parking lot, Frost looked up.
The building was… normal. A three stories apartment with beige paint. A cracked stairwell railing. No fences. No guards. No cameras he could see.
Ashley turned around in her seat, smiling brightly now. "Welcome home."
The word hit him harder than he expected.
Home.
He didn't respond.
The apartment was on the second floor.
Andrew unlocked the door, stepping aside to let Frost enter first. Ashley followed close behind.
"It's not much," she said quickly, already sounding defensive. "But it's quiet, and the neighbors mostly keep to themselves, and—"
"It's perfect," Andrew said gently, cutting her off.
Frost stepped inside.
The apartment was small, but clean. Three bedrooms. A modest living room with a worn couch and a bookshelf filled with novels. The walls were decorated sparsely framed photos; a couple of abstract paintings Ashley had picked up from local artists.
There was no overwhelming sense of control.
Frost stood just inside the doorway, unsure where to put his bag.
Ashley watched him carefully, "You're going to love it here," she said, her voice felt warm and comforting.
Frost swallowed.
"I… okay."
Andrew closed the door behind them and set his keys down.
"Do you want to see your room?" he asked. "Or do you want some time to settle in first?"
Frost hesitated. Then nodded. "I'd like to see it."
Andrew gave a simple smile "Come on." before beginning the house tour.
The tour was brief but thorough.
Bathroom. Kitchen. Living room. Ashley pointed out the balcony, already talking about plants she wanted to grow there. Frost listened silently, absorbing everything.
When they reached the second bedroom, Andrew opened the door slowly, "This is yours."
The room was simple. A bed with a blue comforter. A desk by the window. A wardrobe that hadn't been filled yet.
Frost stepped inside.
It felt… empty.
But not in a bad way.
"You can change anything you want," Ashley said from the doorway. "Paint, furniture, posters—whatever you like."
Andrew nodded. "This is your space."
Frost turned to look at them, "Thank you," he said quietly.
Andrew clapped a hand gently on his shoulder, "Get comfortable. Ashley and I are going to start dinner."
They left him alone.
He dropped his bag by the bed and sat down slowly.
Then, as if the tension finally released its grip on him, he fell backward onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.
A smile crept across his face, "Hope this last more than a week," he whispered.
Then the shadows shifted.
A cold presence stirred beneath him, stretching, curling along the edges of his silhouette.
Frost.
The voice was low, warped, familiar.
His smile vanished instantly.
"Stop," Frost hissed under his breath.
The shadow beneath him thickened, dark tendrils reaching upward like grasping fingers.
You can't hide me.
Frost sat up, heart pounding, and quickly formed hand signs
The air around him shuddered.
The shadow recoiled, then a hand dragged it downward.
Frost—
"Jason," he whispered fiercely. "I don't want him out. Please let me enjoy this."
The darkness weakening, flattening, retreating into its proper place.
Silence returned.
Frost pressed his hands against his face, breathing slowly, "I just want to be normal," he murmured. "Just for once."
A knock at the door made him jump.
"Hey," Ashley called softly. "Do you like pork?"
Frost lowered his hands, startled. "I… I've never tried it."
There was a pause.
Then Ashley laughed lightly. "Well then, today's your lucky day."
He stood up, smoothing his shirt, and opened the door, "I can help," he said quickly.
Ashley's smile softened. "I'd like that."