Flowers in bloom. Red and pinks blending harmoniously. The bees kissing the pollen to take to its next lover. Spring, a season of love greetings that always end in a wrecking, in the afternoon air blessing souls intermingling. Olivia Pope a young, ripe woman leaving a taste in the mouths of secret admirers. While some may say that thirty one is old they hadn't seen her. Like the Earth sculptured her with tender touches and the whispers spoken into the midnight air of ones truest desires.

This sunny day was a rare occurrence in stormy Vermont, her feet dangling off the side of the bed daring her to face the day. If she stepped her feet on the hardwood floor then it was over. Reality would come crashing down and she would be forced to leave the man laying next to her. He was chiseled by the gods and refined the way she liked her wine. Instinct told her to run as fast as she could before facing her drunk mistake, but her heart urged her to play with the loose brown curls. He was sleeping peacefully with his curls a wreck. She can't remember what they did last night, but she knew she probably enjoyed it, if they did anything. She looked at his hands and craved to feel them touch her. Yet, he was a stranger and she knew this was wrong. If she hadn't been such a wreck, would she be laying in a perfect strangers bed? What if he isn't perfect but a total asshole? Anxiety flared up at the thought of an awkward exchange with a one night stand. She had to get out of there quick.

-24 hours earlier-

Life a terribly complex, mess waiting to get you at every corner. Olivia Pope understood this better than most. Today, she would be forced to face her father for the first time since she did the unspeakable. She could already feel the venom coursing through her veins and envision her mother's disappointed facial expression. It's one thing to avoid your parents after a fallout, but to move across the United States was inconceivable. Therefore, she spent the last week looking for the perfect place to dine with them. It had to be elegant with five star meals and guest of status. She decided on Burlington Country Club, never been there herself, and could risk the ricudule of her father's remarks. But, she promised her parents a date, one of those uptight country clubs appearances. Brunch was the standard way to flaunt your position in society as the waiters waited on you hand and foot. She arrived not a minute late- ironically- her father arrived five minutes early therefore making her late according to his time schedule.

"Rowan… It's nice to see you." She said as she sat down, "Where is mother?"

"She couldn't make it between fundraisers she is leading and the various dinner parties she must attend."

Olivias body tensed up as she winced from the realization that her mother simply couldn't care to make time. The silent treatment was always her mother's way of punishing her.

"Unfortunately, you decided to just move away from Washington… I don't see what you like about this place." He started back the conversation before it fell flat

"Well, you're not the one living here. I was asked to come down here for an opportunity of helping run a foundation based on International Human Rights law and was tired of the fast pace, political environment."

"No, you made this move because you're childish Olivia! He put his hand on hers giving it a squeeze. As his voice lowered to a whisper. "Don't you get tired of causing problems. Your mother has been terribly upset because of you."

"You guys wouldn't even pick up my calls…." Her voice cracked as she pushed back the tears burning her eyes , "I am doing this for myself."

She knew that his words were supposed to make her stomach twist in circles as the venom made its way through her bloodstream. They ignored call after call from her, when all she wanted was her parents support. But, she was doing better now and wouldn't risk upsetting them anymore than they already were. The conversation stayed light and shallow to prevent anymore mishaps. The awkwardness lingering between them for the rest of the brunch. The only moments she could catch her breath being as the waiters came and went to guarantee a good tip. Like they knew she was drowning and needed help from every bystander possibly. Once, they held enough face in front of the elites that always treated Olivia with little to no respect the brunch came to a rapid end. It didn't matter if it was the Washington or Vermont elites because she never fit in with the preppy life, no, she wanted more from life.

"I have to go now, Olivia. Call your mother and apologize. She deserves it after you disgraced our family and ruined the Pope reputation." He said leaving her with one last jab

She choked back her words and slowly nodded her head in agreement. If she had to deal with this rough period to be back in good graces then it required her pride to be shoved down her throat. All she wanted was her parents approval. They always had more and more obstacles for her to jump through, whether it's from extracurricular activities as a kid to the country club appearances as a teenager. Brunch was signaled as over with hugs and kisses that weren't genuine ending their time together.

Quickly she found her vehicle, a matte black 2018 Jeep Compass, and laid her head on the steering wheel. Peace and quiet. Now, she could allow all the tears to pour out like a waterfall. Each one signifying her desperate pleads for someone to care. She could go home and seek comfort in her oversized bed for one. But, she needed something stronger than the red wine stash. A dive bar, that wouldn't judge the day drinking, the drinks cheap and strong enough to chase the venom away. She drove around allowing the therapeutic music to soothe her tears as she looked for the bar. Out of the corner, she spotted a ran down bar on the corner. Where classy clashed with the vibes of a bustling nightlife.

She double locked her car before heading in. Immediately, she took a seat at the bar waiting for the bartender to tend to her. He was handsome with blue eyes and curly brown locks, he was around 6'2" and a light touch of scruff that she was attracted to. He met her gaze as she looked at him like a piece of meat with a slight smile. He took confident strides to her end of the bar.

"Like what you see?" He said with arrogance

She loudly scoffed at his comment. "I would like it better with two shots of vodka in front of me."

"Coming right up." He laughed, "Rough day?"

"Rough doesn't have encompass today. Now, if you excuse me I didn't come to the bar to be hit on but to get drunk."

Hours upon hours passed of him casually flirting with her as getting her drink after drink. She loved the attention after a day of pure guilt. But, he was a bartender and clearly over the age of 35 years old. It was pathetic, how could he be only a bartender at a shitty hole in the wall like this? That was all bad news. But, she was sad and tired of feeling rejected, so she appreciated the way he gazed at her with wonder. Or the brushing of their hands in the exchange of drinks. Finally, she had enough liquid courage to flirt shamelessly and plead for a dance. It had hours upon hours of her getting shots until her legs felt wobbly.

"Dance with me. You know you want to." She said with a seductive tone. Her smirk looking him up and down, up and down. He hung his head and just stared at her wobbly movements.

"I'm a terrible dancer, babe." He laughed at her, "Plus, it seems you aren't in much of a state for dancing."

She wouldn't take "no" as his answer, she knew he had to get out of behind the bar and relax. "Pretty please with a cherry on top." She began pouting her luscious lips well aware of their power on men. He would be another victim of her puppy dog face and he wasn't upset about it. No, he was craving to touch her the whole night. Like he could hear her moans roar with a raspy beg for more. But this was just one dance and he knew it had to be that way, she was drunk and sad.

They danced and danced. Their bodies intermingling like they were hand crafted for each other. His breathe heavy against her neck as she grinded on him. She had a way with her body that drove him on the verge of wanting to love her. His hands traced her curves as he sucked on her neck. She moaned with pleasure as she purposely rubbed up against him with a fiery desire to have all of him. His voice rough and ragged as he forgot that they were clearly in public with a bunch of drunken idiots. Suddenly, he snapped out of her spell. She was drunk and sad. He couldn't move farther with her without feeling guilty even if she wanted to.

"I'm going to call you a cab. You have had way too much to drink and I can't have you making any mistakes." He felt like a kicked puppy as the words flowed out his mouth

"I don't need your help. You're a real asshole!" She snapped at him before searching for her car keys.

He couldn't let her drive home, but something told him that she was stubborn. He had to find a way to get her in a cab or to make her stay upstairs in his loft. It took convincing and all his charisma to get her to agree to staying upstairs. He carried her over his shoulder and dropped her on his bed. His room with a king size bed with red covers and an authentic sheepskin rug on the floor. It had a romantic touch thanks to the interior decoration that believed in the setting of ambiance. She squirmed on the bed with bubbly giggles at his pure torture of trying to get her to bed; he continued to try and get her to changed into a pair of his pjs and to sleep. But, she wanted to play and she didn't care what it took to get his attention on getting into bed with her. Slowly and deliberately she removed her a light pink silk shirt to reveal a white lace bra that cupped her breast perfectly. Yet, all her advances were rejected with him leaving to the bathroom to brush his teeth. By the time he came back she was in a drunken slumber in her matching bra and underwear set leaving little to nothing for his imagination. She was beautiful… He wanted to love her and teach her that her seductive ways could easily by met with his advancements. Sleep crusted eyes were the remnants of last night and a torn apart pillow wall between the two of them. Olivia Pope, left and hoped to never see his face again, she hated one nightstands and the bed being a wreck left her with the realization that she slept with a complete stranger.