Who. Young!Emma Frost From. Not UtR By. Krys Note: This is a small drabble thing that's not really meant for reading. I'm just trying to plot out some stuff that should happen to her in the future and this is the easiest way to do it. It's not particularly good and it's plenty emo.
"It needs to stop." Emma was fighting to keep her voice even. She knew that yelling at Christian would only push him to do stupider things. But she just couldn't keep herself calm any longer. The worry was etched into the lines of her face. They'd been going at it for twenty minutes. "I can't keep getting calls in the middle of the night from some stranger to come and pick you up, Christian. What's going to happen when I'm not around? Someone's going to take advantage of you when you're so drunk that you can't fight back!"
Christian was looking thinner and angrier than Emma had ever seen him. His hair had an unwashed look to it and strands were sticking up together. The circles around his eyes were dark. "I'll be fine." He rolled his eyes. "God. Stop lecturing me."
"Lecturing?" Emma raked a hand through her hair. "I'm not lecturing you. I could be lecturing you, though. I could be telling you about how I have to get my boy friends to come and carry you up to your dorm because your asshole friends leave you once you get too wasted. I could be telling you that if you continue doing this you're going to-"
"Shut up. Just shut up! I'm going to be fine. My friends will take care of me if I'm too much of a burden for you. God forbid you come get me once or twice. Forbid you look bad in front of your cute little boy friends." He was practically snarling at her. "That's it, isn't it? You're afraid of what they'll think. It's bad enough you have a queer brother. That's embarrassing enoug-"
"That's not true!"
"But to have a gay brother who parties too hard? The delicate Emma Frost simply cannot handle that!"
"I'm worried about you, you idiot. I've never been ashamed of you. How dare you." Emma felt a small lump forming in her throat. She spoke around it. "What is wrong with you?"
"Wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You think you have any room to talk about me? You're never home. Cordy keeps me up with what goes on at home - something about you being a miserable drunk. You must be making mother proud."
Emma shrank back. Her brother didn't notice.
"Do you even have friends? If you got wasted, would anyone call me to take you home? No, they probably wouldn't bother. Your friends hate you like daddy's friends hate him. What's it feel like to be so much like our parents?" He stopped to a slow when he noticed that Emma's eyes were shining. Still buzzed with adrenaline from the fight and drugs running through his veins, he exhaled loudly and waited for her to respond with something just as nasty. Nothing came. "Emma..."
He didn't mean it, Emma knew. Not really. She was just the nearest and easiest thing to lash out at. That didn't make it hurt any less. She turned without a word and started walking for the door. Each step was deliberate and dignified. Emma refused to run out like a hurt little girl.
"I didn't mean it," Christian said with a harsh laugh. "Don't be-"
Emma opened the door. Without turning to look at him, she exhaled shakily. "Fuck you," she said thickly. The door slammed heavily behind her and she all but ran down the stairs.
She didn't stop until she was outside and sucking down the cool winter air. She told herself to not cry, but it was easier said than done. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she tried to walk as straight and steadily as possible.