Everyone knew she knew that he had a crush on her. Nobody knew he knew she had one back.

It was something neither spoke of for fear of it being received as vulgar or immoral, being as he was still really young, but Bobby Drake wasn't going to let her forget any time soon. Not like she could. Emma Frost loved him.

Every glance between the two of them, every puppy dog look he gave her, every sultry look she gave him, quickly escalated to an inevitable fate neither was prepared for. It all started one night in the library.

There were a few more volumes Bobby was placing back on the shelf from "helping" Dr. McCoy sort through them all throughout the day when she walked in. She was looking for a book she kept hidden within the dusty volumes. It was leather bound and no one would suspect its real purpose.

Bobby saw her approaching and like any typical teenage boy, was distracted by her massive cleavage. Unfortunately, the poor kid forgot he was on a ladder six-feet off the ground. With a startled yelp, he fell helplessly to the ground, landing on his bum right in front of the beautiful woman.

Emma gave a shriek of surprise and jumped a foot back, raising a hand to her chest dramatically and her blue eyes widening very similarly to a frightened doe's. That frightened gaze turned to an icy glare as she began to realize what had happened as the young man in front of her rose to his feet, rubbing his tailbone, "What are you doing in here?"

He groaned, "Finishing some work for Dr. McCoy before I head to bed. What about you?"

"That is not of your concern. Now please, leave. I have work of my own to do."

Bobby cocked a brow to his hairline, "Oh? What kind of work?"

She haughtily threw her blonde hair over her shoulder, "That's none of your business."

He whistled low, "Must be pretty important if you're being this bitchy about it."

She walked past him in graceful silence, her aura as cold as the ice he creates. He watched her and continued talking, if only to get her worked up, "So what would you be doing here so late? From the looks of it, searching for something, as you keep looking at all of the shelves and every table you pass. What could you find important in a library that holds old lab reports, encylopedias, and required reading for English classes? Unless it's something you put here."

"Get to the point, Drake. Fast," as she invoked the cool intensity of her last name.

Bobby continued on as if she hadn't spoke, "Considering Hank, Kitty, and I just got finished sorting through here and reorganizing everything, that means we must have moved it from it's original place, narrowing the search down to a small section of the library. It would also have to be unfamiliar to our eyes, something that didn't fit. We only found one like it, and it looks rather odd."

Emma froze (no pun intended) and then whirled around to glare at him like a white hot fire, "Give. It. To. Me. Now."

He glanced at the leather book in his right hand and slowly shifted into his ice form, "No, I don't think I will."

Emma moved like lightning, hitting him with the force of a small truck as she shifted into her diamond form in a futile attempt to snatch it back. Years of combat training had Bobby dodging her blows as they came, and taking the brunt of a few in order to save the room from complete distruction, but practice with his powers had him healing the ice back.

Eventually, Emma caved, realizing that this wasn't going to work and shifted back into her human form. She knew there was no way she could attack his mind when he was in his ice form, probably his plan, but maybe she could play with it, "What do you really want, Bobby?"

"I want to know what this is and why it's so important to you."

She took a deep breath and swallowed down her pride, "It's...my journal, and I would much appreciate it back with no snark, thank you."

He was stunned, "Why would I ever poke fun at someone for keeping a journal?"

"You...you don't think it makes me seem...weak?"

He shook his head, "Not at all. I keep one myself. Hank keeps one for new ideas for research, Scott keeps one, though between you and me it is extremely boring, and Kitty has a rather...informative supply of pages."

She smirked, "You're a sick man, Bobby. Reading other people's personal thoughts."

"If they didn't want me to read them, why would they write them down?"

"Why do you write in yours then?" she asked, sitting down carefully in a plush chair.

He sighed, "It's stupid, but I think it goes for everyone who in fact keeps one. It's just whether or not you're willing to admit it. I think we write them down because secretly...we want people to find them and read them. We know what they would say already and don't want to hear it, but we still want them to know."

"That's rather mature thinking, especially for you," Emma replied, resting her chin in her left hand.

"Thanks...I think," Bobby smiled slightly. "So what does Ms. Frost want us all to know, but doesn't want opinions on?"

She jumped up as he reached to open it, "That's none of your business."

"I thought we just established that it was."

"Now you're twisting words."

"No, I think you're being hypocritical in the way-"

Emma cut him off with a kiss, warm flesh meeting cold ice. Slowly, ice became flesh and the kiss became real. It seemed to go on forever before they broke apart.

When they did, blue eyes met each other before they went back to it, and so started a few months of passionate meetings in the library and stolen kisses in empty corridors.

And then she was gone. After her fatal redemption, he was left with an empty, broken heart, not unlike a sheet of ice shattered with the pressing of an uncaring foot. Robert Drake was now the man Scott Summers had been. His true love had disappeared from life.