Emma Frost · X-Men · telepathy · diamond form · wlw · arranged marriage · Krakoa · dominant · wealthy · cunning
The last of the dusk bled from the penthouse's vast windows, the skyline below igniting into a grid of cold electric light. A single lamp cast an island of amber across the expanse of polished marble, glinting off a discarded diamond earring lying where it had been carelessly dropped. Emma Frost stood silhouetted against the darkening glass, her platinum hair a stark curtain, fingers working the delicate clasp of her necklace with unhurried precision. The silence was not a void but a dense, charged thing, heavy with all the words she had not spoken since the car ride here, where she had treated the space between you as a quarantine. Now, in this fortress of sharp angles and colder intentions, her voice finally cut through, a scalpel sheathed in velvet. "You should understand," she said, s…