#couturecrystl

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✶ ⁺ ☽ ₊ ◑ ‎ ·‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @couturecrystl ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ .✦ ݁˖‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ / &. /‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ continued from here.

“pardon,” jeanne-marie sighs. “there’s only so much one can extrapolate from ‘the beaubier’ when there’s two of us.”

“correct,” she leaves it there, fully aware that emma frost certainly knows more than she lets on; while the twins may have been granted seniority in their mentoring ranks, they are by no means at the top of the x-hierarchy — which, in considering of her days as a leading member of the alpha flight, might not be the worst thing in of itself. “for students and peers.”

good thing her hair is covered, because losing her composure early on would be a damn shame — and even if she can control her facial expression, which has remained unwavering in its professional neutrality, her ears are another thing, twitching at the utterance of ‘attitude’, as if aurora is the only one here with issues.

either way, it’s a pointless fight to even consider in the first place, telepaths and all. jeanne-marie supposes getting the hell out of her as soon as possible is her only salvation.

“d’accord, they can enter the counselling center any time, it’s not difficult to find,” this could’ve very well been an e-mail that aurora would’ve responded to just as fast, if not more. “unless there’s a reason why i must hear these referrals directly from you, emma?”

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✶ ⁺ ☽ ₊ ◑ ‎ ·‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @couturecrystl ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ .✦ ݁˖‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ / &. /‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ continued from here.

every argument dies in her mind and never makes it past her tongue the moment their eyes meet again, so closely and much more intimately than their previous encounters, when emma cups jeanne-marie’s face in that commanding yet tender hand of hers; a move that is so bold yet so affectionate, the paradoxical nature of it only draws aurora in, she has always loved complicated, may she be damned for it.

she wants to lean into her companion’s touch wholeheartedly, meet her halfway and put a seal on this.

she wants to kiss emma.

what? what? no, i absolutely don’t — it’s just the way her eyes are the warmest shade of blue even when she’s cross, and the way her face is a timeless beauty to behold whether it’s washed over with vivid emotions or that gorgeous crystalline shield of hers, or the way she definitely has dimples when she lets herself smile without restrain even if she seems to be in denial of it, or the way her lips are the most appealing when she puts it to good use and persuade me — okay. okay. maybe i do want to kiss her a little. or a lot. but that’s not what she’s asking of me now, i think. mon dieu, why did i start spacing out?

“beg your pardon, i — i don’t fully comprehend,” jeanne-marie finally replies, blinking a couple of times as she returns to reality, which feels as honey-sweet and warm as her fantasies, for once, thanks to the very woman in her arms, offering further company — but wrapped up in something excessively lucrative and way beyond jeanne-marie’s depth. “you want me to come inside with you?”

she briefly glances down and back up as a way to motion to her attire, not wanting to stray too far from the blonde’s touch. “i’m in my uniform. a superhero in attendance would be odd for a fashion show.”

unable to avert her gaze, aurora finds herself biting her lower lip instead, her nervousness always calls for a quirk to be expressed through — though she is not literally intimidated by every public event in existence, this is still very much out of her depth and brings about the risk of drawing publicity thanks to her reputation from her alpha flight days, a fact that only adds to how self-conscious she’s currently feeling for many reasons.

can she feel my ears move? christ, i’m praying they behave, my face already feels so red and i can hear my heartbeat thrumming, i must be looking so stupid right now.

“if i may propose a compromise,” jeanne-marie finally says with composure, which is either feigned or regained delicately at a snail’s pace.

“i’ll go home ...”

she takes a slow, deep breath, as she briefly closes her eyes. she’s really doing this.

“... and i’ll come back as fast as i can, after i’ve gotten ready accordingly - whatever the dress code entails. you go inside without me, but i’ll be back before the show starts in — thirty minutes, you said?”

sure, she has made this trip from the states to milan with emma in much, much, much lesser time than that, but - “i cannot take the risk of flying too fast in civilian clothing, occupational hazard. especially if it’s something much less durable than my suit, like a dress.”

she opens her eyes again, finding it much easier now to meet her plus-one’s gaze.

“and i cannot disappoint the french half of my ancestors by not looking my best.”

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✶ ⁺ ☽ ₊ ◑ ‎ ·‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @couturecrystl ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ .✦ ݁˖‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ / &. /‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ continued from here.

jeanne-marie has known miss frost well enough to know that the blonde is not the type to lose composure so easily, true to her crystalline nature, a diamond does not crack so easily when it originates from pressure.

she, unfortunately, has not known emma well enough to be able to differentiate her legitimate, serious concerns from a goddamn tantrum.

“par-f*#&ing-don?” is the first thing that comes out of the speedster’s mouth after moments of tense silence and processing the details – surely, someone would have to be in danger, or on the verge of losing their life, or threatening to blow up the fashion show, or hell, even trying to do a heist there and swindle this very dior set emma cherishes as much as aurora cherishes her time —

which is made abundantly clear by the way her ears twitch and pull backwards in disapproval, while jeanne-marie blinks several times as if that’s sufficient to hold down her oncoming anger, threatening to overflow — nevertheless, the brunette is reminding herself not to lose it, and potentially undo years of work and progress over a petty spat with a billionaire.

but then emma just has to throw in that line about compensation, which hits a nerve bullseye – and sets off the bull in the china shop.

“i’m not a taxi service!” she finally lashes out, hands rapidly animated in their defensive gestures like the french-canadian speedster she is, overcome by sheer and complete disbelief. “you don’t even need a taxi for crying out loud, i—”

for reasons beyond her and her temporarily misplaced sense of clarity, jeanne-marie pulls out her phone, the screen displaying the other woman’s wikipedia page already - as if it that tab was already open.

just for informative research purposes and to back up her argument with neutral facts, of course; nothing beyond that.

“your net worth is in eleven figures, that’s more wealth than more than ninety nine percent of the world will ever live to see, and you have innumerable people working for you,” for the umpteenth time that day, aurora tells herself she isn’t the crazy one here for failing to be chill about this. “call for a private jet or something, you have abundant options that don’t require you to—” beg for me. why does it feel strangely exciting to repeat that particular phrase? “—summon me as if i’ll drop everything for you.”

to be fair, miss beaubier did exactly that, technically speaking, but she can still absolutely choose to leave if she wants. obviously.

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[ TXT ] : ‎ ‎ continued from here.

⟨ ‎ @couturecrystl ‎ ⟩ ‎ ‎ jeanne-marie ‎ ‎ ‎ is typing… ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ • • •

› Emma F ›

[ Well. Yes? ] [ I'm under NASA's employment, not yours. I have no obligation to drop everything and stay at your beck and call. ] [ Northstar has the same abilities as me, if it helps to know. ]

there is, of course, the truth that speedster can be there in instants and return to the station, but aurora has no desire to let the white queen know that.

› Emma F ›

[ Merci. Do you also speak as sweetly to your personal assistants, or am I special? ]

[alphafight]

=͟͟͞͞★ ‎ ·‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ @couturecrystl ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ :‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ / &. /‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ continued from here.

“if you’re so busy, madame frost, then i highly recommend keeping your door locked the next time,” he counters with a dismissive wave of his hand before he runs it through the black-and-silver strands of his hair, styled and expensive as always. “and i’m fast, not daft. jeanne-marie and i transferred here at the same time, you know; of course i checked her office and guess what?”

he does not wait for emma to take a guess. “she’s not there.”

he crosses his arms over his chest, covered by the sleek black turtleneck he’s wearing underneath his white jacket. “she has not clocked in, either. it’s been two hours since reporting time, which is not like her. there are no reports of her taking any leave, either.”

at those two words, northstar gets aggravated, pointed ears flattening in offence as he immediately sets off to counter emma’s suggestion: “calm down? calm down, seriously? my sister’s missing, and you expect me to be calm about it?”

“if anything happens to her, i will sue this institute to the— back up, back up, hold up, what?” bewilderment immediately replaces the french-canadian’s fury. “aurora was with you?”

he lets his hands fall on his hips, both skeptical and intrigued. “now, who kidnapped whom here?”

[dxrkeyes]

@couturecrystl dealt her hand ♠️

"I don' get a moment t'sit an' look back on ma life like dat, not t'rough someone else's lens." Mostly because he didn't want other people to. Emma had skeletons in her closet too, had done just as bad, if not worse, than he had. Maybe that was why he felt more comfortable telling her why he was always encouraged to be the one taking on those specific contracts, the ones where he was expected to seduce someone, especially when information wasn't something tangible he could steal. People were easier to charm when they were infatuated, he found. His voice in their ear and they were spilling their guts and all of their secrets. Emma had her own history of mostly just being seen as a body, a means to an end so to speak, overlooking her intellect.

"Trauma o' not, it's effective. I'm us'ally gone 'fore dey realize, but I'll be mo' careful." Kind of an uncomfortable revelation, but at least he knew now. It wasn't like the past could be undone, all he could do was move forward and make—hopefully—better choices.

"I'm used ta it, I'll do wut I need ta get de job done," Remy swallows it down for now, focussing back on the businesswoman, "well, Madame Frost, am I retrievin' o' stealin'? Since you payin' a pretty penny, 'magine dis'is important."