The 51st President ✓(Book Four)

Chapter Six

  For a politician- especially the high ranking ones, there are three types of mornings. Without fail, each day falls under one of these categories. The newbie's usually avoid categorizing their days- giving an excuse along the lines of "It takes the fun out of things", but when has politics ever been fun?

  One- if we had a good day the previous day, we wake up full of energy, ready to take on anything. This does not happen often. Those who say it does are lying- there's about a five percent chance that you have even one good day. That statistic is even lower for two in a row.

  Two- we wake up to some sort of emergency. These are a bit more common. Being in government, we're informed of everything going on in the world. While I was still "just a representative", I would get woken up in the middle of the night by my assistants whenever a devastating storm or tsunami happened across the world. There are other types, too- but economic emergencies can generally wait until morning.

  Three- we wake up with regret. You cannot be a politician without making mistakes, so it's good to prepare yourself before going into an office. Eventually, you will make a mistake that costs somebody their life. As fucked up as it is, that's just part of the job.

  And nobody ever really wants to be the president. They do it for the people- the ones demanding they run. This is also the easiest office to impose worldwide change from, with the power we hold behind and in front of the scenes.

I lay wide awake, not feeling the need to blink. In my bed, a reminder of last night's regrets- Ethan's sound asleep. Daylight is just now creeping through my windows, so I know that I'll have to get up soon, but I can't bring myself to do it. Once I do- who knows what the day will hold?

His lips are slightly parted as he breathes. I bring a thumb to them, feeling the softness. Memories from last night come flooding back. The sensation of his bare skin on mine, the way he actually looked at me when he... none of this changes the fact that we can't happen.

The public will crucify me- because of the position I hold. Regardless of how smart he is, they'd say I pressured him. That I pressured a fifty-four year old man into doing something he didn't want to do, when neither of us was complaining either times.

I finally bring myself to sit up. My closet beckons from across the room. I glance back at him, still peacefully sleeping- and stand up slowly so I don't wake him up.

Ahh, how I love my entire room being a consistent temperature.

When I'm not wearing any clothes, the small detail is appreciated. At my two houses- there are small drafts here and there. It's nothing that'd make me want to tear them down to find the source, but still.

Different president's have added their own customizations to the residence her the years. I don't know what mine will be, but I go over theirs in my head. Williams really liked classical art, so during his presidency the White House was filled with it. The adjustments made as a result of Kyle's presidency were endless, because of the security precautions that ensued afterwards. Reggie liked a more modern look, so he temporarily replaced all of the furniture. Now, because of David and Lauren- everything's back to normal.

I really do like her style, so I haven't changed much- and that includes the massive closet. It's nearly as big as my bedroom, which is the size of the studio apartment my family lived in when I was little.

I run my fingers over the racks of clothing and close my eyes. Designers gift the president pieces of clothing almost daily. In fact, I'll never have to buy any again- because for a small designer, dressing the president is an insane honor. One photograph can change somebody's life forever. That's something I learned from my stylist, so for important events- I always go with the gifted pieces.