December came with a flurry of exams, papers, and last minute assignments, culminating in a general sense of relief when, on the fifteenth of December, the fall term officially came to an end. For Henry and Elizabeth, this meant their first chance to do anything together other than study, but it also came with an ROTC Christmas party that Henry felt obligated to attend, and which he begged Elizabeth to attend with him.
What he did not imagine when they set out across the cold campus that evening, that it would also result in their first disagreement as a couple. It had been over the way Henry had ignored her during the party. He really hadn't meant to; he'd seen an old friend and gotten caught up in talking to him, and the time had passed before he knew what was happening. Elizabeth, for her part, normally wouldn't have minded, except that she had been nervous about this party, and had told Henry so, but he'd assured her that it would be fine. She hadn't wanted to go in the first place, for fear of feeling left out, but Henry had assured her that he'd be there with her. And then, he hadn't been, and exactly what she'd feared had happened.
Now, they stood facing one another in her thankfully otherwise empty apartment, the air around them thick with tension.
"Look, Elizabeth, I said I was sorry!" Henry said. "I don't know how much more you want from me."
She shrugged her shoulders and he sighed in frustration, before reaching out to pick up his bag.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm going home," he answered shortly, and he was in the process of tying his shoes when he heard a shuddering breath and looked up to find tears suddenly streaming down her face. He hesitated, unsure of what to do. He'd just been planning on going home, giving her some space, maybe bringing her some breakfast the next morning to smooth things over. But now, she stood sobbing before him, and whatever anger he'd been holding onto was fading fast. Elizabeth, meanwhile, felt like she was spinning out of control. She let herself get so attached to Henry in such a short amount of time- exactly what she'd sworn she wasn't going to do once she got to UVA- and now he was going to leave her, too, just like her parents had. Just like all of the friends who'd said she was too clingy. And suddenly, Elizabeth's insecurity was bared where it was usually covered by bravado and confidence.
"Elizabeth?" he asked cautiously. "You okay?"
It was awkward and strange, and he knew it, but he had no idea what else to say.
"I just thought this was going to be different," she said quietly. He stared at her, confused, and slowly slipped his shoes back off.
"You thought what was going to be different?" he asked.
"Us," she admitted. "I guess I was wrong."
"Elizabeth, what are you talking about?" he inquired. She gestured to his bag and shoes.
"You're leaving," she said, sounding defeated. "And it's just hard to think that it's over," she added, her voice breaking. Suddenly, it hit him that she actually thought he was leaving, not only the apartment, but her.
"Elizabeth," he murmured, and moved forward so that he was standing right in front of her. She hesitated, but didn't step back, looking up into his eyes as he tenderly brushed a strand of her hair off of her face.
"What are you doing?" she breathed.
"Baby, I'm not breaking up with you," he explained softly. Tears filled her eyes again at his words, and he reached out to pull her close to him, his heart breaking at the cautious way she snuggled into his embrace.
"Henry," she breathed, and her voice wavered. He held her a little tighter against him, smoothing a hand over her blonde hair.
"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Something in her had broken, and she wrapped her fingers around the fabric of his shirt as she tried to control the crying. She hated that she was crying in front of him, hated that she'd thought he was leaving, hated all of it.
"Elizabeth, it was just a fight," he said as he held her there in the middle of the room. "Couples fight. It doesn't mean it's over." He pressed his lips against the top of her head, tucked in against his shoulder.
A few minutes later, she pulled back to look at him, and he just smiled tenderly before kissing her forehead lightly.
"Don't apologize," he said, cutting her off before she could get started. Elizabeth looked at him, a little bit surprised.
Had Henry really come to know her that well in such a short amount of time? Well enough that he was willing to comfort her and then brush it aside, the way she needed?
Instead of voicing her surprise, she smiled ruefully and nodded, and then he tilted her chin up with one finger, bringing her lips to his in a way that had become routine for them. When they pulled apart, he smiled at her, warm and with no trace of the resentment she was half-expecting.
"Thank you," Elizabeth said. "For being different." The words were hard to get out, but felt important.
Henry laughed lightly.
"I'm just being myself," he replied, and Elizabeth thought that maybe that was the best part of it all. Henry wasn't trying to be different; he was just being Henry. She took comfort in that, the idea that he was so completely himself that she didn't have to worry that he was being disingenuous with her. It made her feel safer, more comfortable, and more herself. As she kissed Henry goodnight and he tenderly brushed his fingers over her cheek, Elizabeth realized for the first time that Henry complimented her in ways that no one else ever had. It was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, and yet as she closed the door behind Henry and leaned back against it, she found that she couldn't keep the smile off of her face, the remnants of their argument fading away easily now.
With Henry, she was finding, a lot of things were easier.
On that, a cold day right before Christmas, Elizabeth Adams was sitting at the window of her apartment, staring out at the world beyond the clear glass panes, and wondering when was the last time she had seen so much snow.
It had snowed regularly during her childhood growing up in Virginia, and she had fond memories that were now getting a little hazy, of snowball fights with her brother and building snowmen with him and their parents. It had been idyllic and always so much fun. These days, Elizabeth tried not to dwell on that too much. While there were always a handful of good snow days and plenty of slushy ones, Elizabeth thought it had to have been more than a decade now since she'd seen snowfall of this volume. It had begun in the early hours of the morning and had not stopped since, coming down in big, fluffy flakes and settling with utter abandon over the frozen ground. It had piled up over the course of the day, and now in mid-afternoon it was showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. Elizabeth didn't mind; she had nowhere to go. Christmas was fast approaching, just days away, but she would be staying at UVA over the holiday. She was really trying not to mind that she would be alone for Christmas, but somehow it was harder this year. She had gotten really used to spending time with Henry, and she guessed that somewhere in the back of her mind she had pictured having this holiday with him. It was silly, though. Henry had a big, raucous family back in Pittsburgh, who would of course expect him to come home for Christmas. She understood. But it didn't stop it from stinging a little bit that Henry would be going back to his big family holiday while she would pass the day alone in her apartment.
The afternoon was creeping to a dusky end, snow still piling up outside at a steady pace, when an unexpected knock sounded out on Elizabeth's door, jarring her from the silence in which she had passed the day. She took a puzzled glance at the clock on the wall as she shut the book she was reading and set it aside, wondering who could possibly be at the door. Most everyone she knew was off campus, either already home for Christmas or at least well on their way.
Or so she had thought.
When she opened the door, it was to find Henry McCord standing on the other side. There were snowflakes in his dark hair and on his shoulders, clinging to his wool coat and melting slowly in the cold evening air.
"Hi," he said.
"Henry," Elizabeth replied. "Hi. What's going on?"
"Well," Henry sighed. "My plane got grounded."
"Oh no," Elizabeth answered. "Well- you couldn't get another one?"
"No," Henry said, and she could detect the layer of frustration in his voice. "Everything's grounded until tomorrow and by then all the flights are booked, it's so close to Christmas."
"Oh," she answered. "Well, come in."
Henry shuffled into her apartment and began shedding his winter outerwear, but as Elizabeth watched, her head was swirling with unanswered questions. She understood Henry's dilemma- there was certainly nothing to be done there. But what she didn't quite grasp was what he was doing in her apartment as opposed to his own.
"Henry?" she asked.
"Hm?"
"What are you doing here?"
He looked up mid-shrug, halfway still in his coat, looking trapped as he met her eyes. His gaze flickered from one side to the other, suddenly uncertain and confused.
"Uh," Henry started. "What do you mean?"
Now Elizabeth found herself unsure too, and the awkward stillness lingered between them in the air.
"I mean- you know, why did you come here? Instead of your place?" she asked. She wasn't sure how to say it without sounding as if she didn't want him there. But judging by the somewhat stricken look on his face, she had not been successful in that endeavor.
"I'm- I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I didn't realize," Henry started awkwardly.
"No, no," she interrupted. "No, it's okay, I didn't mean it like that, I was only confused."
"Oh."
Henry slowly lowered his arms, letting his coat slide off of him at last. He held it in his hands, looking like he wasn't sure where to turn.
"I just thought- well, if I wasn't leaving, I would want to spend Christmas with you." Henry's voice had gone soft and a little bit childlike, and Elizabeth felt it in her chest somewhere beneath her ribs.
He wanted to spend Christmas with her.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, her voice gentle and warm. "You know you're welcome to crash my place anytime, especially with Becky out of town as well." A light of relief came back to Henry's hazel eyes and he smiled a familiar and sweet smile at her.
"Hang up your coat," she said, and he quickly obliged.
"Oh," he said. "Could I use your phone?" He suddenly looked a little bit sad again. "I have to call my mom and let her know I'm not going to make it."
"Of course," Elizabeth answered, and he gave her a small smile. She hung back as he stood by her little phone table and dialed his home number in Pittsburgh. She attempted to busy herself straightening up in her kitchen, but the truth of it was that there wasn't much to do. In the tiny apartment, it was impossible not to hear Henry's whole conversation with his mom.
"I know," he was saying. "I checked, Mom, I promise. I did everything I could but there's just no way for me to make it by Christmas." There was a pause as Henry listened, and when Elizabeth snuck in a glance over at him, she could see how it pained him.
"I can try to reschedule when the storm passes," he said. "Maybe I could make it for New Years' Eve."
There was another silence as Henry listened, the disappointment and sadness etched on his face. And it was then that Elizabeth had an idea, remembering her little box of Christmas decorations tucked away in the closet. iIn a rare moment of sentimentality, Will had thrust the box in her direction when she had been moving into this apartment. She'd questioned him, but in a fashion very typical of him, he had just shrugged his shoulders and insisted she take it, with a smartass remark ready to follow, sufficiently quelling any desire she had to connect with him over the contents of the box. Nevertheless, she had been somehow touched to open it and discover the contents- tinsel and string lights, a stray garland, and a few assorted tchotchkes. She didn't have a Christmas tree, and she certainly didn't have the makings for the family Christmas celebration that Henry would be missing out on in Pittsburgh. But she had something- and she was formulating a plan at a rapid speed in her quick mind. By the time Henry hung up the phone with a sigh that she could hear over the sound of the phone clicking into place on the cradle, she knew exactly what she was going to do.
"Are you okay?" she asked, directing her attention to him as she met his hazel eyes across the room. She wasn't sure how true he was being when he shrugged his shoulders and nodded with a forced smile.
"I'm alright," he said. His smile seemed a little more genuine when he added, "at least I get to spend Christmas with you."
Elizabeth smiled back at him, and then she turned her gaze out the window.
"I hate to ask," she began, "but it's getting bad out there and with two of us here I don't think I'm supplied." She cast a look at him over her shoulder, inquisitive and open. "Think you could manage a grocery run before this gets intense?"
"Sure," Henry replied. "Do you want to go too?"
Elizbaeth shook her head, remaining perfectly nonchalant so as not to raise suspicion.
"I think I'll stay here and tidy up a little," she said. She threw in a little bit of embarrassment, throwing him off her track completely. "I still have half the laundry unfolded in the bedroom," she admitted, and he laughed.
"You know I don't mind," he said, and he was sincere.
"You know I do mind," she countered, and Henry shrugged. He, too, looked outside at the falling snow and reached for the coat he had hung up only a few minutes earlier.
"Any requests?" he asked. Elizabeth shrugged.
"You're the one who's good at feeding us," she said, and Henry laughed again, knowing that she was right.
"Ice cream, though," she added.
"Like I was going to come back from the store without ice cream," Henry answered. In the relatively short time they'd known one another, Henry had encountered Elizabeth's voracious love of ice cream on more than one occasion. "I don't have a death wish, Elizabeth."
His tone was light and teasing; he was already seeming more himself than when he had ended the call with his mother.
"Go," she laughed. "You don't want to be out on the roads when this gets bad."
"Definitely not," Henry agreed. He leaned in and kissed her, all too brief in its warmth and softness. "Be back soon," he said, and then he was gone. Elizabeth took a few seconds to gather herself and then she squared her shoulders and set her focus- there was work to do.
It didn't take long to dig out the nearly-forgotten box of Christmas decorations in the bottom of her storage closet. She hadn't touched it since she moved in, but she had remarkably few material possessions outside of what she used day-to-day. She dragged the box into the hallway and opened it there on the floor, sorting through its contents with relative ease. There wasn't really a lot, but she was sure there was enough to make things at least a little bit special and festive.
In the end, she discarded some too-short pieces of tinsel and kept out all of the blinking colored Christmas lights, some deep green garland, and three snowglobes, the origin of which she couldn't begin to guess. And, at the bottom of the box, a lone Bing Crosby tape, which would work just fine for setting the mood. She was stunned, but glad, to find that when she plugged them in to test them, all of the strands of lights worked fine, and so she set to work wrapping them around every available surface in the apartment. It wasn't hard- the apartment was tiny and she only had four strands of lights. Henry had only been gone for twenty minutes by the time she finished. She set the snowglobes all in a line on the tiny coffee table, and then picked up the garland. Her mother- and Henry's, if she had to guess- had a talent for decorating that Elizabeth herself did not possess. But she made do- the lights didn't look too horrible, and she had just had an idea for the garland. On her tiny kitchen table, she arranged it in a small centerpiece fashion and began to rummage through her kitchen drawers. She was sure that she'd stashed away two red taper candles here somewhere. They had been in a drawer of the kitchen when Elizabeth moved in- presumably for the case of a power outage, though she wasn't sure why candles were the necessary tool in the late eighties, when a flashlight would have served with much more practicality. Nonetheless, she was glad to find them now, hidden at the back of the silverware drawer and never once lit. She pulled them out and headed back to the box on the hallway floor. Initially, the set of brass candle holders had seemed useless, but now they were exactly what she needed. She pulled them out and stowed the box back in the borner of the tiny closet, sure that now she had everything she wanted. All that was left behind were a couple of Santa Claus figurines that were definitely less cute and more creepy. She set the candles up in the candleholders, which were a little tarnished but still worked perfectly well, and glanced at her watch again. It had been almost forty minutes now since Henry had departed from her apartment, and the grocery store wasn't far, so she knew he could return anytime. She lit the candles and stepped back to admire her work, so satisfied that she nearly forgot her Bing Crosby tape. She set it into the tape deck and clicked it closed,and then pressed play. The button pushed in and stayed, and grainy music began to filter through the speaker.
It passed through only one song before there was a telltale sound outside, and Elizabeth knew that Henry was back- and just in time, because It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas had just begun to play on the tape.
Elizabeth waited with great anticipation as she opened the door for Henry, so giddy about her idea that she was nearly bouncing on her feet.
It was in that moment that Elizabeth realized she had not felt this excited for Christmas in years.
When Henry stepped into the apartment, he had already opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short when he glanced up at the place, transformed from what it had been less than an hour earlier.
"Elizabeth?" he said, sounding surprised and delighted, just as she had hoped. He turned his hazel eyes on her in question. "What is all this?" he asked.
Elizabeth smiled, so bright that it rivaled the sparkling lights that hung all over the apartment.
"Well," she began, reaching for a couple of the grocery bags in his hands. "I know you were disappointed about missing Christmas with your family, so I brought Christmas to you here."
There was a little pause in which he just looked at her, and nervousness tugged at the edges of her consciousness.
"I know it's not the same thing-" she began, but Henry didn't let her finish. He dropped their groceries on the ground and stepped forward to meet her, pulling her close in a kiss, his lips warm and familiar against hers as she leaned into him, the bags she had taken from him still in her hands as she melted into the kiss.
"I love you," he murmured against her lips, and she thought she felt something inside her come to a stop.
She pulled away to look at him.
"You do?" she asked.
Henry looked caught, like he hadn't meant to say it, but when he nodded his head, his eyes sparkled with truth.
"I do," he answered, a little breathless.
There was a beat of silence, and then the words were out of Elizabeth's mouth, long before she had time to overthink them.
"I love you, too."
Henry's face lit up, rivaling the twinkling lights arranged around the apartment.
"Really?" he asked, sounding surprised but sweet in equal parts.
Elizabeth smiled, wide enough that she felt it in her cheeks.
"Really," she echoed, and he kissed her again, unable to help himself.
"It's perfect," Henry said when he pulled away from her finally, and as she stood there looking up at him, taking in the sparkle in his eyes and the warmth in her own chest, she had to think that Henry was exactly right.
It was perfect.