They're lying in bed together, bodies entwined beneath the crisp white sheets. He's gently running his fingers through her soft hair, trying to memorize every last detail about her. He breathes her in and places a sweet kiss on her hairline as he tightens his arms around her, wishing beyond all wishes that they could stay like this for eternity.

But he knows that they can't, because as much as she may need him, the country and millions and millions of people are counting on him too—depending on him too. His life isn't simple—it never has been—but oh how he wishes it could be. Many aspire to be in his position, but all he truly wants is a regular nine to five job that would give him enough to afford a small little country house in an average town—just enough to support his family without all of the extravagance.

He closes his eyes and pictures that life—simple and ordinary, happy. And he feels the body in his arms shift, a feather light kiss left over his heart. He presses another kiss to the top of her head and smiles against her hair.

"Tomorrow…" he whispers, and she adjusts herself once again so she can look up at him—so she can look into the piercing blue eyes that stole a piece of her soul.

"Tomorrow you will become the forty forth President of the United States...again," she says with a proud smile as she mindlessly twirls the soft hair on his chest.

"Tomorrow I will legitimately become the forty forth President of the United States," he corrects, once again tightening his arms around her. "But that's tomorrow. Tonight I'm just Fitz, the man madly in love with the beautiful woman in his arms."

She gives him a small smile and rests her head back on his chest. And they quietly stay in that position for a few minutes before she whispers, "Talk to me about Vermont."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before beginning. "I'm the mayor of our small town. You suggested that I should run one night as a joke, and it remained our little joke for a few years until it wasn't just a joke anymore. You helped with my campaign and I won in a landslide—youngest and best looking mayor the town's ever seen."

She lovingly slaps his chest and they both laugh for a few moments before he begins again. "And you make jam—but you actually work at DA's office, lead prosecutor. You're the best on staff, highest conviction rate in the state, and everyone wants you. But you like working for the people, wearing the white hat—so you stay with the DA instead of going into private practice."

He begins stroking her hair again. "We have four kids. Jason's the oldest—eight—but he's more mature than I ever was. He's the spitting image of me, but his personality is all you. He's kind and funny and smart as a whip, the perfect big brother—definitely going to continue the family legacy at Harvard.

And then there's Sydney and Katherine—Syd and Kate. They're twins. Identical. Four year old little spit fires. They've got my childhood wild streak and they do absolutely everything together. They look exactly like you did when you were younger—almost like triplets. And sometimes the only way we can tell them apart is by their outfits—Syd refuses to wear dresses while dresses are the only thing that Kate will consider wearing.

And last but certainly not least, we have baby Noah. He's barely even a year yet, but he's the most adventurous of all of our children. He looks just like Jason did at that age, and he has a laugh that would just melt your heart. Seeing him laugh is what we live for on the long, hard days. And at bedtime, when everyone lays on our bed together and either you or Jason or I read a story, he gets snuggly and falls asleep in your arms—a little grin on his face.

And you reluctantly take him off into the nursery and rock with him for a bit before finally laying him down like you used to with each of the kids. And when you come back, Syd and Jason are usually asleep—but not Kate. She needs that final hug and kiss from mommy before she can go to sleep, so I carry Syd and you walk with Kate into their room and we lay them down, leaving the two pink butterfly nightlights on by each of their beds.

I take Jase into his room and then check on Noah one final time before meeting you back downstairs on the couch. And we sit there together doing something different each night—sometimes we talk, or sometimes we read or do work, or sometimes we watch tv, or sometimes we even get a little carried away and end up half naked—but no matter what it is, we do it together.

And each night we lock up the house and walk upstairs together, you tucked tightly in my arms where I know you feel safest. We lay together in bed, me whispering how much I love you and adore you until you eventually fall asleep in my arms—just like you are right now."

He looks down and sees her eyes closed, her chest rhythmically falling up and down; and he smiles down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you so much, Livvie. I promise you that someday we'll have that life—the kids and the house and the laughs and the love. We'll have it. I promise, baby."

And presses his nose into her hair and closes his eyes, drifting off into a deep peaceful sleep like Olivia—both of their dreams consisting of that life and all of the possibilities it has to offer.

So here's some finals week procrastination. Enjoy!