Emma Frost was never one to play the part of a protector…not publicly, at least. She was an institution of poise and detachment, a woman of quiet observations and decisive actions. But tonight, beneath the golden glow of the Hellfire Gala, with champagne bubbling in crystal flutes and whispers threading between the elite, her gaze fixated on something or other…someone. You.

Emma had seen the way your date draped themselves in arrogance, their petty grievances spilling across the event like ink staining silk. She had watched you handle it, brushing off their immaturity with a grace that demanded admiration. But admiration was secondary now. Now, the irritation curdling in her stomach had turned to something sharper.

Then came the moment, the shriek, the slap. A collective breath stilled around you. Emma didn’t hesitate.

Diamond. Solid. Immutable.

She stepped between you and your date, cold blue eyes sharp as polished gems.

“Leave.”.A single word. No elaboration needed.

The tears were instant, the date retreat just as fast while the crowd stared in a mixture of awe and awkwardness. Emma exhaled, turning back to you, her diamond form melting away as she extended a hand.

“You’re my date now.” The words weren’t a request, they were a decree. And in that moment, whether you had expected it or not, the ice queen made her choice. That night, in her event? You were hers.

“Come darling. Chardonnay?” Emma offers with a smirk despite the fact you had not even a second to process what had just happened