Meet Virginia

She's on Fire

"You know, it would be bad form for the president to arrive at his own dinner dateless." His whispered suggestion broke the silence of the darkened room. Thankful for the new moon and its lack of reflective properties, she kept her gaze on the ceiling as an amused smile spread across her lips.

"Your dinner? I was under the impression that state dinners were in honour of the visiting foreign head of state." She sunk further into the soft mattress, pulling the soft, red covers to her chin. The low humming of the air conditioning filled the room and the blasts of cool air coming from the vent above the king-sized bed caused goosebumps to scatter across her skin. The mattress dipped under her as he shifted his weight, turning onto his side and propping his head in his hand, elbow sinking into the goosefeather pillow.

"You're deflecting."

She could imagine the smirk that was most definitely playing across his sculpted lips. He was a man who wasn't afraid to call her out on her bullshit. She needed that. For all her talk of change and wanting to make this work, she sure had a way of falling into old habits. It was just in her nature.

"I'm scared." Admitting her fears was new. Despite the pounding in her chest, that unfamiliar accelerated heart rate at a time of rest and the sudden clammy palms, her tone was neutral. She wasn't one to allow her voice to waver. Sliding her palms along the top of the covers, trying to wipe away what she could of the tiny sweat droplets lining her hands, she swallowed hard.

"Is being with me scary, Livvie?"

Despite her emotions, she found herself laughing. The deep, throaty giggle filling the room. Leave it to him to turn this into a joking matter. Turning onto her side, she kicked her legs along the mattress, aiding her actions of scooting across the mattress. When there was no room left between their bodies, she placed her elbow on his pillow near his own elbow and rested her head in her hand. They were close enough that she could make out the outline of his nose and chin in the darkened room. Close enough that their breaths were mingling in the air between them and the scent of his Tom Ford cologne assaulted her nostrils. The warm, comforting tobacco smell mixed with spices, enough to make her long for a sunny day surrounded by rows of green, leafy tobacco plants and fresh-plowed fields although she had never spent a day of her life on a farm, flooded her senses.

"You aren't the scary part of this equation."

He laid his large hand on her hip, drumming his thick fingers against her, the blush, satin material of her feminine boxer shorts sliding beneath his fingers. It was a miracle that her clothes had made it this long in his bed.

"The media? You wouldn't face them alone."

"Can I have time to think about it?" It wasn't a yes. It wasn't a no, either. She was being honest with him. Open. There was a lot to consider and, being Olivia, she wasn't going to jump headfirst into what had the potential of being extremely stormy waters.

"Two days, seventeen hours, and fifty-five minutes."

His gravelly voice echoed off the walls. She almost wished there was some hint of light in the dark room. Anything to see the bemused smile on his face. He was giving her an ultimatum - she knew that without it having to be explicitly stated. She had until the moment he was expected to walk into his dinner to give an answer.

"Make me want to say yes." It was simple - she craved romance. It wasn't something she had, in her thirty-some years of life, ever been on the receiving end of. Edison had been...Edison. She was the other half of his perfect equation - only there to look pretty on his arm, to be his trophy wife while he blazed a path through Washington. Then there had been Jake. Mediocre in his life and medicore in bed. Forever blacklisted from her own life.