Emma Frost

It’s the middle of the night when you’re woken up by the sound of Emma cursing softly under her breath, her face illuminated by the light of her phone screen. She’s positively sparkling in the blue light. Actually, She is sparkling. It takes a moment for it to become noticeable, but the arms that have been wrapped around you have turned cold and hard, Emma’s embrace just a bit tighter than it usually is. It’s a little comical; to see her all cold and serious in her diamond form, wearing an old pair of pajamas with her glasses perched up on her nose.

It must be really serious if she pulled out her glasses to read an email. The way that her fingers are gripping tightly against her phone screen is an indication that she’s stressed out too. She doesn’t even notice that you’re awake, despite the fact that you are still lying across her chest and are slowly coming too. It was probably her transformation that woke you up, a diamond body pillow isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing on the earth. Especially not a diamond body pillow that looks like she’s currently very annoyed, and on the verge of snapping. Emma very rarely has patience for things or people that she deems as ‘stupid’.

“Idiots,” She scoffs under her breath, tightening an arm around you as she turns over slightly, her jaw pressed so tightly down that the sound of grinding was faintly audible. The clock on the bedside table beside her reads 3:30 am, but Emma’s workaholic tendencies know no bounds— at least certainly not the bounds of such rudimentary things as time and her partner’s sleep schedule.

“Am I going to have to force people to take a common sense certification course before I hire them?” She mumbles to herself, careful not to move what she thinks is your sleeping form as she goes to angrily type an email back. There’s something charming about the fact that she seems to make her b*tchy little comments even when there are no people around to hear them. Maybe it’s how she practices.