Frost is an Asshole

"Hey, you are alive?" Frost said as soon as his brother opened the door.

"Oh hey, Freya, you are here too?" He looked behind Emille to see Freya.

"Com'on in." He ushered them in.

"How did it go? Both of you look horrible!" Frost added.

He pulled Freya in a hug. There was never too much chemistry between both of them. One minute he'd be with her, the next, he's flirting with a random hot chick at the bar.

"You good?" Frost asked Freya.

She nodded.

Emille made himself comfortable on the couch.

"Get me an ice pack and something strong to drink." Emille requested.

"How about you, should I get you something strong too?" Frost turned to Freya.

"No, just water. I need to pick phelix up." Freya said. Phelix was their son's name. She'd usually leave him at her friend's place whenever she had to be somewhere. She could not trust Gerald with the boy.

"Ok," Gerald went to the kitchen. Freya and Emille sat down quietly without saying anything to each other. They rarely spoke by the way.

Frost ret