Fic: Diamonds On The Inside
E-mail: violet147@yahoo.com
Rating: PG.
Warnings: It's het! *gasp* Who would have thunk?
Pairings: John/Emma Frost
Summary: John realizes he hasn't seen as much as he thinks he has.
Notes: For Hedda. Because she roleplays as Emma and I was inspired by Emma and John's lurve.


John liked to think that he’d seen the world, and that he’d seen every marvel and wonder and atrocity and horror ever conceived by man. He thought it was marring him, he was afraid it was tainting his sense of humor, twisting his morals into shadows. He wouldn’t say it aloud, of course, because seeing the world’s treasures has only strengthened his stupid pride. But he was worried. He wasn’t okay. He was scared out of his fucking mind.

He had been all over the world, with Erik, fighting for their lives, fighting for their right to LIVE those lives in peace. In the back of his head he knew there’s no such thing as peace, but he’d continue to fight for it. He’s seen everything, he thought, he’s seen what the world has to offer, all the trinkets and treats and poisoned apples and false dreams that shine throughout the centuries. Erik laughs and calls John his “jaded little boy” affectionately, but John’s not jaded. He’s just seen it all.

One look, though, and what John sees of the world is thrown to the history books. One single sway of hips, one teasing smile, one sweep of blond hair, and John’s perceptions are destroyed. When he finally sets his eyes on diamonds so gleaming they could light the entire world, he realizes that he’s seen nothing, and knows nothing of the treasures and jewels of what he used to call hell on Earth.

He was hell, he knows now, he was burning and burning, and now the shine of the diamonds cool his senses, cool the fire that burns in his hands and heart. The clarity he has now, the light reaching the fog that was condensed around his eyes, and he weeps with joy because he HASN’T seen everything, he hasn’t seen anything at all, but that’s more than okay; it’s bliss.

So much hope, so much light from such a small thing. So young. So bright. Only seventeen, just like he is, and already holding a piece of heaven in her hands.

It’s okay, he thinks to himself when he moves her hair from her face and presses his hands into the flesh on her stomach. Because she is the light, because she IS every treasure, every diamond, every crime the world could ever produce.

She gleams from within, from the diamonds inside, and when the diamonds come to life on her skin, he cries translucent, crystal tears.

She will illuminate, for him, every thing the world has to offer that he’s never seen before.


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