The only outward sign of his anger was the force with which Emerson slammed the glass on the desk. When he spoke, everything about him was calm because he knew that was what he needed to get through to Lucien. If he reacted with anger, it would only enforce the kid's mentality that he had to act like a shit to have someone pay attention to him.
"Yeah, he did from time to time before he and my mother were slaughter by a demon they tried to bind for me in front of my face," he said calmly, holding Lucien's gaze with his own to make sure he knew that the other witch wasn't joking even slightly. "And I'd give up every one of those 'I'm proud of you's to have them back.
"Look, Lucien, whatever the reason, you have to get past this or you'll be dead before you're 25. It's hard and it fucking blows and there are shit ton of reasons for acting like a little shit when you've been through whatever hell you've been through," he continued, not looking disappointed so much as he was honestly tired and more than a little concerned. "Numbing it isn't a coping mechanism. It's putting it off so you don't have to face it and what you've become because of it."