lana del rey imagines

ꨄ︎ you're her national anthem [au] ꨄ︎

Piano melodies float harmoniously in the environment, sweetening your ears. Besides transmitting an absolute peace and serenity.

Looking up from the agenda in which you're writing, you contemplate the great artist who's giving such an amazing show.

A minute later, she stops playing and looks directly in your direction.

"I did it, I did it!" The six-year-old girl fidgets enthusiastically in her seat. A brightest, toothy smile on her face. "My teacher is going to be soooo proud!"

The sight of her being so thrilled about her accomplishment generates so much sweetness, you can't help but chuckle. "I'm proud too! You did a fantastic job, Julie!"

She offers a new radiant beam that reaches her eyes and it's impossible not to return the gesture. She then continues playing, but not before bringing to her mouth some candies that are on top of the piano, as a kind of self-reward.

You plunge back into your task of continuing to organize Juliet's school schedule with musical accompaniment in the background. You're engrossed in your own bubble when about ten minutes later, a Secret Service agent walks into the room and approaches you.

"Madam President requires your immediate presence in the back garden, ma'am." He reports.

"Please tell the president I'm a little busy right now, Paul."

"She stated it's an urgent matter, ma'am."

Finally you look at him. Paul is Juliet's babysitter at this instance, sending him to inform the president that you refuse to see her would be so heartless of you. There's nothing a Secret Service Agent fears more than giving the head of state less than positive news, after all.

"Fine," you sigh, closing your agenda and leaving the comfort of the navy blue sofa. "Juliet, my love, I'll be right back. You keep playing for Paul in the meantime, okay?"

"Okay, mommy."

After leaving your daughter under the best of care, you start walking through the corridors of the White House towards the backyard. For the first few years within these walls, you walked around almost ashamed, feeling small among so many intimidating people in uniforms and fancy clothes. But you quickly came to realize that you're just as respected (and feared) as your wife.

Your presence is powerful, vibrant. You walk with your head held high, confidence in every step. And a kind smile for anyone who crosses your path, of course. Unless you're moody.

"Ayla is on the move. I repeat, Ayla is on the move."

The Agents begin to inform each other over the intercoms. Hearing your code name on every corner every time you take a step or a breath has become a habit. Another thing you've grown highly accustomed to.

Ayla stands for halo of light around the moon. And curiously, the code name of the president is Esmeray, dark moon.

Yes, of course she was the mastermind behind that choice. So much attention to detail as always.

Sun rays hit your face as soon as you leave the Residence. All the commotion happening indoors is easily overshadowed by the wonderful sounds and soft scents of nature and its precious beauty itself.

Birds flit among the oaks and pines. Hummingbirds nesting nearby feed on bee balms and petunias, which have bloomed in all their radiant splendor with the current arrival of spring. Butterflies in shades of orange and yellow prefer to fly contentedly among the wide rose gardens, the section of the backyard where you spot the person you're looking for.

You make your way to her, enjoying the fresh air as you remove your shoes so you can feel the soft grass on your feet.

"I've been informed that the president requested my presence."