Querencia

Olivia Cole didn't know what to expect when she had woken up that morning, but this was definitely not it.

She caught Tom's gaze on her and tried her best to smile reassuringly, but it must have ended up becoming something of a grimace, because the young lad only seemed more unsettled. Wary, he turned his gaze back to his lap, kicking his feet while he tried to subtly peer at their guest. Said guest had barely moved during the silence, allowing the two a small respite to process what he had said while he stirred the cup of tea she had given him.

She mentally sighed, and examined the male once more.

The man in question was admittedly, an incredibly handsome man. Young too, maybe even around her age. (She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her from flustering at the thought.) A wide forehead that gradually narrowed towards a delicate jaw line, with a straight nose and full lips placed perfectly above a softly pointed chin. His warm Ivory skin seemed to glow with health, only more so when paired with his hair, fully white despite his youth. (Genetic, He had explained with a simple shrug.) In attempt to look more formal, numerous amounts of waves and curls had been tastefully slicked back as much as possible and pulled into a small ponytail. The only thing left free from the clutches of the hair tie were the side swept bangs that helped offset the wideness of his forehead, and ended just above his cheekbones on the left side of his face. Underneath Flat, shaped eyebrows were somewhat long, thick eyelashes that emphasized the glistening lavender colored orbs they surrounded. Flecks of other types of purple were in there, she was sure of it, though she could hardly spend all day trying to find them and figure out which ones specifically.
(Though she absolutely would, if she had the time. Maybe tonight, while she washed the dishes as the children slept. She could allow herself that respite, couldn't she?)

He was also really tall. She wasn't sure exactly how tall, since she's never thought to or even bothered to pointlessly measure the door frames in the orphanage once in her life. But he was tall enough that he has to duck his head several times while walking through the doorways of the orphanage. Something that had brought much amusement to both him and the children, apparently. Even the chair used for soon-to-be parents seemed to be too small for him. Still, he found a way to make himself comfortable, leaning back in the chair with his legs crossed by the knees and his hands in his lap as if he owned the place.

Handsome, dressed in formal wear, and entirely immaculate. He was completely out of place in her little office. Olivia almost felt self-conscious, nervously swiping at the paperwork on her desk and hastily organizing it, as if it would magically lessen the barren feeling of the room and make the cobwebs in the corners disappear.

"And you are sure that you want to adopt Young Tom, Mr. Frosland?" She asked again. "You don't want to take a look at any of the other children?" Tom swiveled in his seat to stare judgmentally at her, and she winced.

She didn't mean to sound cruel about it, Tom was an incredibly cute child, and she held no doubt he would grow into those looks he no doubt got from his father. (She didn't want to be mean about a dead woman, but his mother… well, least to say Olivia felt much more confident about her own looks after seeing her.) But Tom was… well, Tom was not a normal 5-year-old. Strange things happened around him, often enough that while no one really said anything, they all knew it was because of him.

Many of the older caretakers avoided him because of it, afraid of being a victim of these strange happenings. Olivia tried her best to take care of him regardless, but she had an entire Orphanage to run and far too many mouths to feed, there was only so much time she could spare to care for him. She didn't even realize until recently that the other children had caught onto this and took to pushing him away as well until it was too late to fix it.

And sadly, as a result, Tom grew distant to her as well. Far, Far, and farther still.

Her heart hurt for him, but it didn't have time to follow that lamenting spiral before the snowy haired male spoke up. "No, just Tom for now." He reassured, with a smooth, silvery voice. An American accent, oddly enough, despite everything in his paperwork pointing to him living entirely in Spain until recently. (He had mentioned earlier when asked about his job that he often write books on various subjects in History and Anthropology, and often went to seminars to speak about them. She wondered vaguely how many people actually showed up to hear about his book, and how many just came for him.) "Maybe one day I'll adopt another child, depending on how well Tom adjusts. Until then, I'm perfectly happy with taking Tom in."

She nodded in understanding before he continued on, "And please, feel free to call me Phoenix. I'm hardly an old man, even if my hair makes one think otherwise." He joked lightly, smiling so brightly, she almost marked the wrong papers entirely before she noticed her mistake and hastily flicked to the correct page. Tom rolled his eyes at the scene, and she gave him a playful, yet stern glare before she realized that Mr. Frosland- er, Phoenix, was watching the exchange with great amusement.

Olivia cleared her throat, flustered. "Well, the paperwork checks out perfectly. Your background is clear, You have a steady job and income, your house has more than enough room for Tom to have his own space." She said, flipping through what Phoenix had written down. (Even his handwriting is perfect, she lamented.) "You've also proven quite capable of taking care of young children during your interview. Normally, we'd let the potential parent-to-be spend some time with the child. Though, from what I've gathered, that's already more or less happened." Tom looked away from her guiltily, and she desperately wanted to break open that head of his and peer in. She still had no idea what happened during that encounter, but whatever he did left Tom panicked and Phoenix practically running to adopt him. "If Tom agrees to it, you can bring him home as early as today."

"Excellent!" Phoenix clapped his hands together in excitement, his eyes practically glowing once more in happiness. "It's probably just the way the light hit his eyes." She thought simply, brushing it off. "They're such a light color, after all."

"Again, sir, If Tom agrees." She repeated, vaguely disappointed to see the smile on his face drop into a smaller, more sad version of itself.

"Of course." He tilted his head in acknowledgement, turning towards Tom. His gaze was gentle as he spoke softly, "This is a decision that will affect you directly for the rest of your life. Child or not, you have the right to say no if you don't feel comfortable. I can't force you to come with me if you don't want to."

Olivia bit her lip nervously, watching her young ward's brows furrow in thought, a calculating look in his eyes that was far too mature for a child of only five years. Phoenix didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. He almost seemed to be… entertained by Tom's stare.

Both Tom and Olivia knew what would happen if he chose not to go with this man. Even if they had claimed to adore him, no parent-to-be has ever picked him. Too Independent. Too mature. They wanted children who acted like, well, like children. Tom couldn't give them that, even if he tried. He would be stuck here until the day he turned of age, and then he'd end up struggling on his own like so many other children who were never picked.

"Please, Oh Lord. Forgive him, He is a child." Olivia prayed internally, begging, using her desk to hide the way she clutched tightly at her dress to the point her very bones ached from the pressure. "Please, Oh Lord, forgive him of his Sins. Oh Lord, help him choose correctly, for he is a child deserving of love despite his misgivings. Let him be loved and cared for. That's all I want for him, please, oh Lord-"

"You won't change your mind?" Tom spoke finally, so cautious that the woman wanted to cry.

"No." Phoenix shook his head. Olivia couldn't tell if it were her own tears clouding her vision, but she was sure his were rather watery too. "Bless Him, Lord, He holds a good heart."

"…Or bring me back?" "Oh Tom, what have the others said to you. Why couldn't I have noticed sooner?"

"Not unless you want to come back."

"I can do whatever I want?"

"Within reason."

"…What about my room? Can I have it however I want?"

"I already have one picked out for you, but it's not yet decorated since I wanted you to see it first. You can decorate it however you like, or even change what room you want if you feel it is not to your standards."

Tom went quiet for a moment at that, looking down with a furrowed brow. Both Guest and Matron took that time to wipe their eyes, and gather themselves up again. "…I want books." He whispered quietly. "New ones, that I haven't read yet." Phoenix's lips twitched into a smile, and he shifted in his seat, as if leaning in to tell Tom a secret.

"I have a library, at my house. Filled to the brim with all kinds of books, books even I haven't read." He whispered back, and grinned at the way the young boy perked up. "And if those don't suit your fancy, I can take you to the bookstore every week, maybe get you some bookshelves in your room, so you can have a little library of your own. Does that sound good?"

Sharpened Umber met Tranquil Lavender, before the child began to nod slowly.

"Okay. Let's go."

It wasn't until much later, after Tom had packed what little things he wanted to keep and the new family of two had left, when Olivia noticed the letter on her desk. Crisp and Clean, Immaculate, just like the man who left it, and sealed shut with wax.

She smiled a little, and took her time to carefully peel the wax off enough to open the envelope. Checking the contents, it took everything in her not to break down in tears right then and there.

A check with more zeroes than she could count, attached to a Property Deed for a New Orphanage in an area she recognized as a much safer area of London. She held them preciously, as if they would turn to dust if she did not, as she read the single sentence on the note card.

"Every child is deserving of happiness, health, and comfort."