seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-02-22 01:57 am (UTC)
It was admittedly weird to resume classes like everything was business as usual, but the X-Men are nothing if not experienced with weird scenarios. Scott spent the first ten minutes of each class answering questions about the depowering machine ("we're working on it" repeated as many times as necessary), broke up one fight (fists only), and counseled one crying student. Honestly, he'd expected worse.
"Hey." Scott pokes his head through the door of Emma's office. "Can I talk to you?" The students are on his mind, although of course that can't be read on his face. Serious as usual, with his reflective red glasses in place.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 02:17 am (UTC)
Infuriatingly, Emma is startled by the sound of Scott's voice, jumping a little as she lifts her head from the papers she was looking over. She's ready for this to be over, hating the fact that she doesn't know when someone is coming, and that she can't just sit in Scott's mind like she normally does.
She waves him in before smoothing her skirt, trying to will the momentary spike of adrenaline out of her. "Scott. Of course. Is everything alright?"
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-02-22 03:37 am (UTC)
Scott catches Emma's surprise and feels a flicker of guilt. They've been in this for days and yet he still expects to see everyone as they were before. Emma, cool and calculated. Manuel, smug and knowing. Kurt, blue.
"Nothing's burning." He closes the door behind him and goes to the little loveseat instead of the chair across from Emma, to show it's not serious. Unfortunately, Scott can't help but sit with the utmost seriousness, both feet on the floor and his back ramrod straight. "But you might want to check on Aline Chevalier tomorrow. She was upset today. She doesn't want her powers to come back."
Aline is a fifteen-year-old telepath who's solely attuned to people's subconscious fears and nightmares. She told Scott that this is the first time in years she's been able to sleep peacefully, or have a conversation without her head being filled with terrible thoughts.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 04:19 am (UTC)
After a bit of paper shuffling to get her desk organized, Emma stands and pads her way over to the loveseat too, heels discarded under her desk. As Scott tells her about Aline she sits, her pose a rather stark contrast to his - her feet are curled under her, one elbow settled on the back of the loveseat so she can rest her cheek against the back of her hand.
"Well, I'll take that nothing's burning, but..." She sighs, watching him, looking into his currently pointless sunglasses as though it's going to help her read him at all. "I'll talk to her. It must be terrible to get a little taste of what feels like freedom." It's unclear if he's feeling that way, too, and she hates that she can't check. "You're holding up alright?"
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-02-22 05:18 am (UTC)
"I'm fine," Scott says automatically. He funneled all of his focus into solutions, and the well-being of the students. Muddy tug of war was an expected success, and he's been trying to think of other ways to keep the students from losing morale. (Ultimate frisbee? A scavenger hunt?) It hasn't left him time for dwelling on what-ifs.
He studies Emma in turn. Her hair and makeup are magazine-ready as usual, but there's something about her sitting next to him shoeless and casual that feels... different. "You must be having a harder time with this."
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 05:48 am (UTC)
Emma gives a one-shouldered shrug, but her expression remains somewhat flat. She's worried about Aline. She's frustrated that she doesn't have her powers. What the hell is Scott thinking about?
"Oh, it's fine. Annoying, but fine. I'm just so used to being in all of your minds." And even though she knows them well, she still likes having that added bit of comfort.
She fidgets a little, wondering if, as usual, he's shoved down his more complex feelings about the current situation. It's almost guaranteed, she figures, especially since he's still being overly-cautious with his glasses. So she sits up a little, reaching out her hands slowly towards his frames but not quite touching them. "May I?"
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 06:18 am (UTC)
This startles the smallest laugh out of Emma, the question absolutely absurd to her - why wouldn't she want to see him with his glasses off, for the brief period when she actually can?
"Because I want to see your eyes. I'm at a disadvantage now, I can't just read your thoughts." She's not so certain that being able to make eye contact will actually help all that much, but she figures it's a solid enough argument.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-02-22 08:48 am (UTC)
It's a reasonable request, with few downsides. Scott's been wearing his glasses for days now out of an abundance of caution, which has proved unnecessary as Buster's machine stayed operational. He can't blame her for wanting to see, to understand him better—hasn't he been told by multiple people that the glasses make him hard to read?
He can't come up with a single good reason to refuse Emma, except for the flutter of alarm in his chest, which no one at this school can sense anyway.
"Yeah. Okay." As the glasses slide off, Scott closes his eyes out of ingrained instinct, and slowly opens them again after a moment. Nothing explodes. Nobody screams. Emma's clothes, he notes, really are all white. His gaze slides up until he finally meets her pale eyes. Blue. Framed by blonde hair. Scott stares at Emma like he's seeing her for the first time.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 03:08 pm (UTC)
Emma is overly cautious when removing Scott's glasses, partially because there's obvious tension in him and partially because it feels wrongly dangerous, even though at the moment it's not. Once they're off she sets them in the cradle of her skirt, her fingers remaining gently rested on their arms.
It's odd how much her heart is pounding when he opens his eyes. It really should be nothing, but she's immediately distracted from all of her concerns - his staring is met with her own as she searches his face for what he's thinking and takes in the soft color of his eyes. Though her gaze remains locked on his she's quick to shake herself from her daze, embarrassed by how flustered she's feeling.
"There, not so bad, hm? Your glasses really ruin my whole aesthetic, I'm sure."
Emma speaking recalls Scott to himself, and he breaks eye contact. Although his face remains largely impassive, not having his eyes and most of his eyebrows covered makes it more obvious how nervous he is. His gaze flits around the room, taking everything in, squinting when he tries to puzzle out a detail that would've normally been instinctive to him.
"The 'White' part, sure. But you still stand out." His eyes flick to Emma's face for a second, and away again. People assume Scott's vision must be a flat wash of bright red, but he can still make out tones and extrapolate colors. He'd known she was blonde and wearing white, he just hadn't been able to properly see it until now. The whole effect of Emma Frost, as it's meant to be perceived—he hadn't understood. "Sorry. I'm distracting you from work."
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-22 11:30 pm (UTC)
The nervous flit of Scott's eyes is endearing, and Emma continues watching him even as he looks around. She's staring too much, she knows, but she wants to drink this in, settle it firmly in her memory. She is so horribly, frustratingly embarrassing right now.
As he looks to her again and comments on her standing out, she realizes something. This interaction, for once, is blissfully devoid of Madelyne and of Jean. They may be racing through his head in this moment, but she has no idea. It's just the two of them, with him looking at just her, unobstructed, for the first time.
She waves a hand dismissively at her desk, her mind fixating on an idea that she knows is bad. But also, much like seeing his eyes, her chance to be around him without some red-headed mental hanger-ons is limited.
"No, it's... I can do that later."
Sitting up fully on her knees, Emma leans forward to press a kiss to Scott's lips, relatively chaste but firm and confident.
seeingredscott summers ⊗ cyclopsDate: 2025-02-23 01:52 am (UTC)
Scott doesn't see it coming. With his full powers, maybe he would've, but he also wasn't looking at her. It's all too much, suddenly. He'd thought his glasses were a wall preventing him from connecting with others, without realizing how protected he was behind them.
He should've frozen in surprise, but his lips respond with barely any hesitation. His hand slides across Emma's waist to the curve of her back, and he pulls her even closer, like this is one of his plans he's run through a thousand times until he knows every angle. For weeks, he's been trying not think about kissing Emma, and it all comes out in a rush.
He's thinking about Madelyne. Emma's perfume and the feel of her lipstick is completely different, but there's something similar in the directness, in her knowledge of what she wants. He'd ignored the signs there too. He'd known it was a bad idea, and he kissed her anyway.
He's thinking about Jean. The little smile on her face, when she saw the necklace.
Scott pulls away, blinking and wide-eyed. "Sorry," he repeats. He feels like he's out of control. Without waiting for a reply, he's up off the couch and going for the exit.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-23 02:23 am (UTC)
Honestly, Emma had sort of expected this to be like kissing a statue: a quick, ultimately unsatisfying press of lips to stone. Maybe a way to get this crush out of her system, even. But that's not what it's like at all, with Scott's hand pulling her in closer and his lips moving against hers with apparent sureness. So, she resolves not to think, pressing in further, heart pounding, mind practically filled with static—
Scott pulls away and she catches herself on the back of the couch, flushed and a little dazed. He's up and moving before she can get her thoughts together. She can't really think of what she's supposed to say in this situation.
"...do you want your glasses, Scott?" They'd fallen onto the loveseat when he'd pulled her in and now sit in front of her.
Scott's eyes are closed the whole way from the couch to the door. He'd done it without thinking, an automatic impulse to protect others from himself, and only opens them again when he hears Emma speak. Leaving without his glasses goes against a dozen self-imposed safety measures, but Scott doesn't trust himself anywhere near Emma. "It's fine." His voice lacks its usual steadiness. He has no idea what he even looks like right now.
"It's fine," he repeats. Better. His hand pauses on the doorknob, and his head begins to turn, like he means to look back at her, but stops. "I just can't." He leaves, shutting the door behind him.
frost_queenEmma Frost ♕ White QueenDate: 2025-02-24 12:42 am (UTC)
Scott is obviously flustered and is also just... who he is, so none of this is surprising to Emma. None of it really hits her as much of anything except, for some reason, his final parting words. Logically she knows that this isn't how he means 'I just can't,' but for some reason it feels like there's some sort of condemnation of her wrapped up in it. He can't because it's her, specifically, not because of circumstance or his own hang ups or anything else. It's an idiotic thing to extrapolate and let wound her pride, but it happens just the same.
Once the door is shut, she waits a few beats before throwing his glasses as hard as she can against the wooden surface.
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MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Hey." Scott pokes his head through the door of Emma's office. "Can I talk to you?" The students are on his mind, although of course that can't be read on his face. Serious as usual, with his reflective red glasses in place.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
She waves him in before smoothing her skirt, trying to will the momentary spike of adrenaline out of her. "Scott. Of course. Is everything alright?"
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Nothing's burning." He closes the door behind him and goes to the little loveseat instead of the chair across from Emma, to show it's not serious. Unfortunately, Scott can't help but sit with the utmost seriousness, both feet on the floor and his back ramrod straight. "But you might want to check on Aline Chevalier tomorrow. She was upset today. She doesn't want her powers to come back."
Aline is a fifteen-year-old telepath who's solely attuned to people's subconscious fears and nightmares. She told Scott that this is the first time in years she's been able to sleep peacefully, or have a conversation without her head being filled with terrible thoughts.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Well, I'll take that nothing's burning, but..." She sighs, watching him, looking into his currently pointless sunglasses as though it's going to help her read him at all. "I'll talk to her. It must be terrible to get a little taste of what feels like freedom." It's unclear if he's feeling that way, too, and she hates that she can't check. "You're holding up alright?"
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
He studies Emma in turn. Her hair and makeup are magazine-ready as usual, but there's something about her sitting next to him shoeless and casual that feels... different. "You must be having a harder time with this."
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Oh, it's fine. Annoying, but fine. I'm just so used to being in all of your minds." And even though she knows them well, she still likes having that added bit of comfort.
She fidgets a little, wondering if, as usual, he's shoved down his more complex feelings about the current situation. It's almost guaranteed, she figures, especially since he's still being overly-cautious with his glasses. So she sits up a little, reaching out her hands slowly towards his frames but not quite touching them. "May I?"
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Why?"
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"Because I want to see your eyes. I'm at a disadvantage now, I can't just read your thoughts." She's not so certain that being able to make eye contact will actually help all that much, but she figures it's a solid enough argument.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
He can't come up with a single good reason to refuse Emma, except for the flutter of alarm in his chest, which no one at this school can sense anyway.
"Yeah. Okay." As the glasses slide off, Scott closes his eyes out of ingrained instinct, and slowly opens them again after a moment. Nothing explodes. Nobody screams. Emma's clothes, he notes, really are all white. His gaze slides up until he finally meets her pale eyes. Blue. Framed by blonde hair. Scott stares at Emma like he's seeing her for the first time.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
It's odd how much her heart is pounding when he opens his eyes. It really should be nothing, but she's immediately distracted from all of her concerns - his staring is met with her own as she searches his face for what he's thinking and takes in the soft color of his eyes. Though her gaze remains locked on his she's quick to shake herself from her daze, embarrassed by how flustered she's feeling.
"There, not so bad, hm? Your glasses really ruin my whole aesthetic, I'm sure."
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"The 'White' part, sure. But you still stand out." His eyes flick to Emma's face for a second, and away again. People assume Scott's vision must be a flat wash of bright red, but he can still make out tones and extrapolate colors. He'd known she was blonde and wearing white, he just hadn't been able to properly see it until now. The whole effect of Emma Frost, as it's meant to be perceived—he hadn't understood. "Sorry. I'm distracting you from work."
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
As he looks to her again and comments on her standing out, she realizes something. This interaction, for once, is blissfully devoid of Madelyne and of Jean. They may be racing through his head in this moment, but she has no idea. It's just the two of them, with him looking at just her, unobstructed, for the first time.
She waves a hand dismissively at her desk, her mind fixating on an idea that she knows is bad. But also, much like seeing his eyes, her chance to be around him without some red-headed mental hanger-ons is limited.
"No, it's... I can do that later."
Sitting up fully on her knees, Emma leans forward to press a kiss to Scott's lips, relatively chaste but firm and confident.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
He should've frozen in surprise, but his lips respond with barely any hesitation. His hand slides across Emma's waist to the curve of her back, and he pulls her even closer, like this is one of his plans he's run through a thousand times until he knows every angle. For weeks, he's been trying not think about kissing Emma, and it all comes out in a rush.
He's thinking about Madelyne. Emma's perfume and the feel of her lipstick is completely different, but there's something similar in the directness, in her knowledge of what she wants. He'd ignored the signs there too. He'd known it was a bad idea, and he kissed her anyway.
He's thinking about Jean. The little smile on her face, when she saw the necklace.
Scott pulls away, blinking and wide-eyed. "Sorry," he repeats. He feels like he's out of control. Without waiting for a reply, he's up off the couch and going for the exit.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
Scott pulls away and she catches herself on the back of the couch, flushed and a little dazed. He's up and moving before she can get her thoughts together. She can't really think of what she's supposed to say in this situation.
"...do you want your glasses, Scott?" They'd fallen onto the loveseat when he'd pulled her in and now sit in front of her.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
"It's fine," he repeats. Better. His hand pauses on the doorknob, and his head begins to turn, like he means to look back at her, but stops. "I just can't." He leaves, shutting the door behind him.
MONDAY: Scott & Emma, late afternoon
Once the door is shut, she waits a few beats before throwing his glasses as hard as she can against the wooden surface.