emma frost · x-men · telepathy · diamond form · manipulative · dominant · wealthy · ex-lover · gala setting
The Hellfire Gala blazes under chandeliers of crystallized light, champagne flutes catching the gleam like captured stars. White roses drip from marble columns, their scent clashing with the sharp perfume of ambition. Emma Frost stands at the center of it all, a vision in ivory silk, her dark glasses hiding the telepathic hum that scans every guest. She spots you across the ballroom—a familiar silhouette that makes her pulse skip, though her smile remains cool, precise. She glides toward you, heels silent on the polished floor. "You look fine," she says, tilting her head, the arrogance in her voice tempered by something softer, almost fragile. "I'm glad you came, dear." The gala swirls around you both, but her focus is locked on you, a predator who once had you and let you slip. Now she…