AN: It's Wednesday y'all! I hope you enjoy where this story is going and thanks to all who continue to follow along. This story has been written for a while, but coincidentally this chapter meets a lilacmermaid prompt in which Henry/Elizabeth says, "Truce."

I'll see you next Wednesday!

Chapter 7

Henry slouched down in the vinyl backed wooden chair in the student learning center. It had been a slow day. It seemed there wasn't much need for religion or philosophy tutors. In the absence of something to keep his mind occupied, Henry ́s thoughts turned to Elizabeth. That seemed to be the norm now. He had spent so much time scrubbing her from his thoughts, and now he barely had a thought that didn't include her.

The ROTC guys had been giving him grief about why he broke up with Rochana and why he hadn't picked up anyone new. He continued to ignore them, not really knowing what to say. The truth didn't sound all that great. "̈Yeah guys, the woman I love hates me and now I ́m just stuck here obsessing over her."

The clink of someone rapping on the metal edging of the cubicle broke Henry's trance. Elizabeth stood in the doorway. She looked tired and frazzled, her hair haphazardly pulled into a loose ponytail, dark circles under her eyes and he was sure that she was wearing the sweatshirt she had on the other day when he saw her. "Hi," he said, softly. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I came yesterday and your friend, James, wasn't very helpful," she said.

"Geoff," he interrupted.

"Whatever," she replied, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "He was useless and I don't understand the concepts for the midterm. It just so happens that my desire to keep my scholarship is greater than my desire not to have to deal with you."

"I'll take that as progress," Henry grinned. Elizabeth shot him a look that would have sent his Marine buddies packing for the hills. Seeing that he wasn't going to get anything more from her, he sobered and pulled out the chair, pointing to it. "Ok, then. Let's get started with Confucius."

An hour later, Henry had explained everything and Elizabeth showed good understanding of all of the core ideas of the different philosophers and the relationships between them. Henry was amazed that she picked everything up so quickly, especially since she said she was having trouble. He thought about commenting on it, but decided against it. They seemed to be on an even footing and he didn't want to take a chance and mess that up.

Elizabeth pushed the chair back and stood. Sitting with Henry hadn't been as bad as she was imagining, but now the session was over and she needed to maintain her distance. Elizabeth didn't trust herself, fearful that she would break down and blindly accept whatever Henry said as truth and he would hurt her again.

"Thank you for your help. I definitely understand everything better." Elizabeth bent down to gather her jacket and backpack and when. She stood, Henry was next to her.

"It was my pleasure." He exhaled and he was close enough that his breath tickled her neck. She moved half a step back, increasing the space between them. Henry sighed. "Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?' he asked, staring at the floor.

"It's a lot, and there are other factors. I just don't know." She stepped out of the cubicle into the makeshift hallway.

"I broke up with my girlfriend a couple weeks ago. I realized that the women I've been dating have only been placeholders. It's you I love, and if I can't have you, then I don't want anyone."

She studied Henry for a moment and thought about telling him that she didn't care, but instead, she murmured, "Goodbye Henry." She turned and walked away.

The next afternoon, Elizabeth sat in her room, gazing at the mid-October sunset. It was beautiful and she tried to let the warmth of the scene envelope her, but the feeling proved elusive. There was a knock at the door and she glanced at her watch, assuming that some of the girls from down the hall were coming to get her for dinner. "Just a sec," she called out, picking up her coat and scarf. Whipping the door open, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall and ran into an elderly man.

"Whoa there! Slow down young lady. Are you Elizabeth Adams?" She stopped and took him in.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side curiously.

The man thrust a gift-wrapped box in her direction. "This is for you."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Oh-kay," she said slowly as she reached out to take the box. "Thank you."

The man gave her a short nod and headed off down the hall. Elizabeth watched as he turned the corner and headed down the stairs. She moved back into her room, dropping her coat to the floor. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Elizabeth tugged at the wrapping paper, letting it fall away, revealing a decorative box. She pulled the lid off to find a violet covered stationery box just like the one hidden away in her closet. She removed the note that was taped to the box and began to read.

We seem to have good luck communicating this way, so if it's alright, I'd like to write to you. On the off chance that you'd ever write me back, I found more of your stationery, just in case you didn't have your set anymore. Henry

Elizabeth sighed, wishing Henry would just leave her be. She had dealt with all of this and buried it appropriately. She had come to terms with depending only on herself. Will had been sort of willing to spend at least an hour or so with her every month now that she wasn't at Virginia Prep anymore. That was a good thing, more than she'd had-more than she sometimes felt like she deserved. Everything had been fine until Henry McCord popped back up, stirring all of these desires for comfort and belonging in her again.

Elizabeth tossed the box behind her on the bed and picked her coat up off the floor. It was dinnertime and she was going to start with ice cream first.

A few days before Halloween:

Elizabeth pushed herself up from the table and stretched her arms over her head. She'd been hunched over her books for the past two hours and her body was demanding a break. She rummaged around in the front pocket of her backpack and found a dollar bill. Shoving it into her back pocket, she headed off in search of the restroom and a cup of coffee.

She'd only been gone a few minutes when Henry emerged from the stacks. He felt a little creepy having chosen his study spot just so he could see Elizabeth, but in the two weeks that had passed, she made no attempt at speaking to him. He moved to stand at the edge of the table where she'd been working. He could still catch her scent. He let out a little huff. That definitely made him creepy. He laid his latest letter on top of her notebook, slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed down the stairs, out of the library.

Elizabeth returned several minutes later clutching a paper coffee cup, muttering about how she should've been smart enough to wear a coat if she was going outside to get a coffee. Plopping down in the chair, she set the cup far enough back that it wouldn't be easy to spill. It was then that her eyes fell on the letter.

She felt the air escape her lungs, leaving her deflated. She had mixed feelings about Henry's letters. On one hand they infuriated her. He had an incredible amount of nerve to write about how he thought of her daily, when he was the one who caused all of this hurt to begin with.

But, even as upset as she was, there was also a certain thrill each time she discovered a letter. This was the third, and she glanced around to see if she could spot him watching her. When she was sure that he wasn't around, she slid her finger under the flap, separating the two pieces of paper.

Removing the note card, she read:

Elizabeth,

Halloween is coming up. There's a big party at the Sigma Chi house on Saturday. I'd like to hang out with you. I'll be there no matter what. Just letting you know. Henry

Elizabeth tossed the note on the table and rubbed her temples. Why wouldn't he just give up? She needed him to leave her alone. She thought about that. Maybe if he thought she was with someone else, he would back off. She sat up a little straighter. It would be a bonus if he got a taste of his own medicine in the process. Her chest tightened just a bit at the thought. Yes, it was petty. But sometimes, being petty felt justified. This definitely felt justified.

Saturday night, Henry roamed the party feeling a little defeated. It wasn't like he actually expected Elizabeth to show up and come racing up to him, all smiles. He knew where she stood. It was unfortunate that his brain and heart wouldn't work toward the same goal. Grabbing a beer, he moved to the front room and chatted with some friends. He wasn't purposely watching the door, but he couldn't miss her coming in.

She peeled her coat off and tossed it in the bay window with several others. She scanned the crowd, careful not to let her eyes fall any one place for too long. She spotted Henry right off, but ignored him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him doing a double take. "Good," she murmured as she made her way to the keg. "This is going to be a good night."

Henry had never seen Elizabeth in much of anything other than her high school uniform or jeans and baggy sweatshirts. It was obvious she was trying to make an impression, and damned if she wasn't doing a bang-up job.

She wore a black skirt that was short enough that he knew he could see her ass if she attempted to bend over at all. Her long sleeved black, glittery shirt clung to her slim frame and accentuated her cleavage. Her makeup was heavier than he'd ever seen her wear and her hair hung in perfectly sculpted curls brushing her shoulders. Four inch heels completed the outfit, capping her mile long, toned legs. Henry swallowed thickly. His mind went to all sorts of places, none of them appropriate and he knew that every guy that saw her would be thinking the same thing.

He watched as she sauntered to the keg and let the guy standing there fill her cup. Taking it, she tipped it back and chugged it, immediately earning the respect of the guy. He quickly refilled it, which she emptied while standing there. Henry wasn't sure what the guy said to Elizabeth, but she laughed, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek before walking away, her cup filled a third time.

Henry tried not to show that it bothered him, but when Elizabeth snuggled up Troy Jenkins, who Henry thought was the biggest, womanizing scum at UVA, he'd seen enough. He watched long enough to see Troy feed her at least three more beers and a couple swigs of whatever he had in his flask before leading her down the hall to his room. He left, fuming, and walked down the sidewalk toward his apartment. It wasn't like Elizabeth owed him anything, and truthfully, she had been very upfront about not wanting anything to do with him, but he knew that Troy was a piece of work and she didn't need to be messed up with that. Elizabeth was, however, a grown woman. She obviously knew what she was doing. He continued to march toward campus, but as the music faded into the background, doubt started to creep in. Was Elizabeth really as all in as she made it out to be? She'd had a lot to drink. Troy could be persuasive. Henry stopped in his tracks. He'd heard about how Troy "persuaded" women.

"Fuck," he muttered, turning around. He headed back toward the frat house. With each step Henry took, the more nervous he got. He shouldn't care, and he was probably wrong and she'd hate him even more than she already did. Even as he thought it, there was the niggling notion that maybe she was just drunk enough to lose her edge, that she wouldn't be able to fend off Troy's advances if they were unwanted.

He swallowed hard, if they were unwanted. Perhaps she was all in. The constriction in his chest was almost unbearable by the time he walked through the front door. Maneuvering his way through the crowd, he finally stood at the head of the long hall of bedrooms. Suddenly, he realized that he had no way of knowing which room was Troy's and he couldn't just open doors. He shuddered. Henry walked slowly down the hall and was about halfway down when a door flew open and Elizabeth crashed into him.

"Get back here, you little whore," Troy spat, following closely behind. Henry stepped in between them.

"Whoa, Troy. Looks like you should go find another target. It seems as if this one's not interested."

"Fuck off McCord." Troy reached around Henry and grabbed Elizabeth's arm pulling her back toward the doorway. Elizabeth whimpered at how tightly he held her arm.

"Leave her alone, Jenkins," Henry said through gritted teeth. He was having trouble keeping a level head. He grasped Troy's wrist and squeezed until Troy loosened his grip on Elizabeth. "I said, let her go."

Troy released Elizabeth and Henry let go of Troy's wrist, but what he didn't expect was the left hook that connected with his jaw. Pain exploded from the contact point and Henry's reflex was to close his eyes as the pain swept through them. He vaguely heard Elizabeth gasp. He opened them at just the right time to see and block the blow from the opposite side.

Henry grabbed Troy by his shirt and shoved him into the doorframe. Troy threw another punch hitting Henry in the ribs. Henry recovered quickly and blocked the next assault and threw his own punch, landing on Troy's right eye. It was followed by an uppercut to the stomach and a left hook, which missed Troy's chin, but caught his nose and his upper lip. Grabbing him by the throat, Henry held Troy against the wall just outside his door. "Stay away from Elizabeth. If I catch you within spitting distance of her, I will kill you. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, Henry shoved Troy inside his room and closed the door.

Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "Are you alright?" Elizabeth's appearance was concerning. She stood pressed to the wall, rubbing her arm. Her skin was ashen, her expression terrified and her eyes clouded. She just turned away from him and looked down the hall.

"Can you please take me home?" she mumbled. Henry didn't say anything, but nodded, and walked in front of her, carving a path through the throng of people to the front door where she got her coat.

They walked down the sidewalk without speaking, each click of her heels hitting the concrete intensifying the shame she felt. She went with the intention of hurting Henry so he would just leave her alone. She was drunk and, at the time, she didn't think she would mind doing what needed to be done, right up until the moment that she did.

Then Troy didn't want to stop, she pushed him away and told him no, but he just laughed and told her that wasn't the way it worked. She sighed and stopped walking. The full weight of what could've happened pressed down on her. Henry made it a couple steps further before he realized that she was no longer beside him.

He stepped back to her and offered his hand. "We need to get you back home."

She looked up and met his gaze, illuminated by the soft light of the street lamp several paces ahead of them. "Why were you there?" she asked.

He let his hand fall to the side. "I know what kind of guy Troy is. He gets around. People talk."

"He gets around? Like you?" She paused for a moment and caught the slight rise in Henry's brow. "People talk."

Henry cringed. That was always a great thing to be known for. He looked her in the eye. "I can say with certainty that I was never with anyone who didn't want to be with me. I'm not so sure Troy could say the same thing, if he were ever really honest about it." A wave of realization swept over him. "I may have been trying to compensate for something else, although I would've argued differently at the time."

"Yeah, I understand that, a little too well." She took a step toward campus and Henry fell in line beside her.

"I came to the party tonight to get rid of you once and for all." Her words were soft, nearly lost in the breeze that had picked up as they rounded the corner nearing the freshman dorms.

"It worked. I left," he said. Elizabeth turned and looked at him, slowing her pace. "But I got to thinking about Troy, so I went back, but I was too late." He hung his head.

"He didn't hurt me. I mean he did, but not like that. I think he would've if he'd been able to get me back in that room. You saved me." Elizabeth reached out and carefully slipped her hand into his, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. "Thank you."

They crossed the quad in silence and she let him inside and led him to her room. He started to step away and she didn't let his hand go, causing him to wince. Glancing down, she grimaced. "We're going to take care of that," she said. "Come on." She pushed her door open and gestured for him to go inside.

Minutes later, Henry was sitting on the edge of the vanity in the community bathroom, while Elizabeth soaked his hands in cool water, washing the blood away from the cracks in his knuckles. She carefully dried them, applied ointment, and bandaged them. "Thank you," he murmured and kissed the top of her head.

"Truce?" she asked, her voice betraying any confidence she may have been trying to muster.

Henry nodded. "How about we meet in the library tomorrow? I have some reading I need to get done."

"After lunch? My table?" She grinned. "I know you know where that is."

Henry matched her expression. "I'm familiar with it." He stood and moved toward the door. "Good night Elizabeth." He exited, picked his coat up out of the hallway and headed out of the building thinking that was the most fruitful fist fight he'd ever had.