A/N: Hey guys, thank you all for your lovely reviews throughout this. It's not really in my nature to write multi-chaptered things, and so I've appreciated the support and encouragement. This is the last chapter, and I've agonised over it for a while. I really hope I've done it some justice and given some form of closure and I hope it's not disappointing. I didn't want it to move too quick, but it seems that's sort of my style. Thank you all so much for reading. As always, you're reviews are valued and loved. Now it's time for bed (it's 10am and I still haven't. Yep, you'd better believe it). Pleasant reading!
Henry breathed in her warm, familiar scent, letting her essence wash over him for the moment. He was relieved to be home and in Elizabeth's arms. He was relieved that it was over.
"Henry, I…" She sighed heavily as he looked up to meet her eyes. She tried to speak, but the words caught in the back of her throat.
He waited, watching the array of emotions cross her features in the matter of seconds. She thought for a moment, clearly trying to make up her mind before gripping the back of his neck and crashing her lips to his.
He made a surprised sound as she pounced, straddling him and pushing him down to the bed, her hands pulling at his clothing.
"'Lizabeth…" He tried to speak against her lips, but she was unrelenting. He pushed her back, trying to create some distance.
He wanted to talk, but it was clear that she was beyond that. He met her movements for a moment, letting his hands wander. We can't do this. Her kisses were vicious and hurried and she reached for his shirt again, pulling at the buttons with fumbling hands.
"Elizabeth." He pushed her back again.
She released a frustrated huff and sat up, quickly unbuttoning her blouse, almost ripping them in her haste. He reached for her arms and stilled them firmly, pulling them down and away from her body.
"Elizabeth! Stop trying to take your clothes off!"
It was his raised voice that broke her daze, and she stopped suddenly, letting her hands fall limply at her sides. Her eyes fell to meet his, wide, and shining with unshed tears. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he said nothing. She hung her head, and averted his gaze, now ashamed of her actions. Swinging her leg off of him, she flopped down onto her back, creating distance between them.
He watched her carefully as she stared straight up at the ceiling, desperately trying to stop the tears that began to stream down her cheeks.
"Elizabeth, hey…" He sat up reaching for her, but she moved to sit and scooted back against the headboard, hugging her knees.
"Don't." She raised her palm to him defensively.
Henry dropped his extended hand, and it was his turn to shrink away.
"Why don't you want me anymore, Henry?!" Her voice high and tight.
"What?" Her words stunned him, he couldn't understand.
"You don't touch me, you don't talk to me anymore!" She was sobbing now, making her nose and eyes puffy. She couldn't see his face properly through the tears, so she didn't look at all.
"Baby, that's not true!" He moved closer moving his hand to rub her foot.
"I'm not talking about touching me, Henry!" She emphasised her point, pulling her foot away. This wasn't how she'd wanted it to happen. He looked helpless, his instinct was to pull her close and squeeze her tight, but she flinched away from his light touch.
"Then wha—"
"We haven't had sex since the bomb at the conference!" She was almost yelling now.
She was right, but it just hadn't felt right. Even on their tiredest days, they would make time for one another, but now, a kiss on the cheek followed by rolling their backs to one another had become routine. He was afraid in a way; afraid for her to see him, knowing that she would. There was no one that knew Henry better. He didn't want her to see it in his eyes, knowing she'd blame herself.
"Is this really about the sex?!" He was unaware that he was matching her volume.
She rubbed her face, swiping the tears away. "You won't even look at me. Is it my body too, or just my face?" She spat. She regretted the words immediately, seeing the hurt in his eyes.
A deafining silence fell over them and Henry looked down, initially indignant, his mind swirled with guilt and regret. The minutes passed and Elizabeth couldn't bear it.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't mean that."
He swallowed thickly and turned to her, considering his words carefully. "When did we become this?"
"I just want to be close to you." She avoided his eyes. Her words delivered another blow, Henry thought he even felt a little winded.
He moved to sit in front of her, crossing his legs. "Me too, but not like that."
"Not being intimate with me?" She lowered her voice, trying to let go of the pain she felt.
"No. Not when we're using it to avoid talking to each other."
"Henry, I've been trying to talk to you for weeks!" She wiped another tear before it could spill.
He nodded slowly, rubbing his face and releasing a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I know." He admitted. She was right again, but not for the reasons she clearly thought. He reached out to touch her feet, gently pulling them from their curled position and into his lap, rubbing them softly. This was damaging her, it was damaging them. He needed to at least try.
"I haven't…"— He cleared his throat "I haven't felt right for a while." She finally sought his eyes, but now it was he who was struggling to keep eye contact. "After everything that's happened, after some of the things I've said to you, I didn't want you to blame yourself." His chest felt tight and he swallowed his own tears.
Elizabeth hated seeing her husband like this, she hated what this had done to him and wished she could take his burden upon herself.
"I was afraid. I am afraid that you'll see me, like you always do. You see straight through me and I was scared that…"— He felt his voice crack over the words "…you'd see someone who you couldn't love anymore." He'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment, and his stomach twisted nervously.
His admission gripped her heart, breaking it all over again. For several minutes, she was unable to do anything but stare back at him. Why won't you just talk to me! She pulled her feet from his grip. He met her eyes, holding out her hand. He took it and moved swiftly to sit beside her, resting against the headboard. She snuggled into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. His stomach churned with every passing second that she was silent.
"Henry, you are the man I love. I love you. I will always love you." Her voice shook with the weight of Henry's words. She kissed his cheek. "Things change, and god knows we've been tested, but I can always find the man I married. I…I've missed you lately." She broke his gaze, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. "I know you're in there, somewhere." She gave him a watery smile, sniffling back the remnants of her tears.
He ghosted his lips over her ear. "I love you too, more than life itself."
She let her eyes slip closed. "I know."
"Tell me." He breathed. He needed her to know that he was listening.
She took a deep breath. "We've never come so close to losing each other. I never thought I'd live a life like that. I was so scared, Henry. We can't… I can't keep…"
"I meant what I said." He turned to look at her again. She smiled back, knowing exactly what he was referring to,
"Be my couch potato for a while?"
"Yes. As long as you'll be mine." He chuckled.
She gave him a silly grin and playfully swatted his chest. He leaned down to press his lips against hers. "Okay." She whispered into his kiss. There was so much more to be said, and they both knew it, but when Henry moved to deepen the kiss, she allowed him to; they needed to take solace in one another, if only for a moment. Gentle hands threaded through her thick locks, and he pulled her to straddle his lap, kissing the life out of her. Tongues met and their bodies communicated what words were unable to. They pressed and pulled as their movements ignited the desire and adoration deep inside, from a place that was reserved only for them. Elizabeth pulled back a little to whisper huskily against him. "Make love to me." Her hot breath fanned over his face, and there was no force powerful enough on earth to make him deny her.
Henry heeded her request, he needed it too. He stripped her slowly and lovingly, as thought it were their first time again, before worshipping her with his lips and tongue. He knew every angle, line and curve of her body by heart, but still took the time to trace and explore, letting her do the same to him. When their bodies met, the air filled with the raw, honest sounds of their lovemaking; the world could wait, and nothing could permeate the safe, sacred space that existed between them. Elizabeth squirmed and writhed beneath him, as he protected and pleasured her as though his life depended on it.
The soon lay breathless in a tangle of limbs, completely void of energy; the weight of the day had taken it's toll. Elizabeth rested against his chest, feeling the heavy thump of his heart under her ear. They soon fell into a deep sleep, unable to bear anything less than the embrace of the other. No further words were spoken, but there would be time for that.
-o-
Elizabeth inspected her scar, noticing the way the light reflected off of the callused tissue, dropping her shirt back down, she turned to face the mirror again, surprised to see Henry standing behind her when she looked up. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning her body back against his. Some things couldn't be erased, and some things should never be erased.
She met his eyes in their reflection. "Do you still think about it, when you see me?" She spoke softly.
"Yes." He breathed, and she nodded. "I also see strength and courage. I see grief, and resilience. But foremost, I see the woman I love, and who loves me."
She turned in his arms. She didn't need the mirror to see herself, and smiled up at him.
"Was that the right answer?" he teased.
She giggled, and the light, joyous sound made his chest feel light. "Yeah."
He took her hands in his and lead her down the stairs to join their children in the morning routine. In a rare occurrence, Elizabeth had a few hours to herself that morning, and after the kids had left to begin their days, she spent that time with her husband.
Laying in Henry's arms as he read, she was content in the quiet, listening to the steady sounds of his breathing. Her mind was alight, as usual. It'd been a taxing week, and she'd barely been able to wrap her head around any of it; Dimitri, Disah, the Vice Presidency. Her mind quickly re-routed her to another thought. They were quite literally acting out the duty of the couch potato, sprawled lazily over the plush cushions. She giggled quietly at the absurdity of the phrase.
Henry placed his book aside, and removed his glasses.
"What?" He inquired with a smirk.
"I was just thinking about what an insane week it's been."
He thought for a moment and pulled her closer, nuzzling into her neck. She covered his hands with hers, holding onto him.
They knew there was more that would come with time, but silence wasn't inherently detrimental. Silence remained, inescapably, a form of speech.
"What matters is that you came back to me."