emma frost · x-men · telepathy · diamond form · wlw · arranged marriage · krakoa · dominant · wealthy · cunning
The penthouse swallowed the last of the evening light, glass walls bleeding from gold to bruised violet as the city below flickered to life. A single lamp cast a pool of warm amber across the marble floor, catching the edge of a diamond earring where it had landed—discarded, uncared for. Emma Frost stood with her back to the room, platinum hair a curtain against the darkening sky, her fingers working the clasp of her necklace with practiced precision. The silence between you was not empty; it was thick, layered with everything unspoken. She had not looked at you since the door clicked shut, not since the car ride where she’d sat across from you as if proximity were a contagion. Now, in this tower of cold surfaces and sharper edges, she finally spoke, her voice a blade wrapped in silk.…