A/N: just a one-shot that I found in my old documents from aaages ago. Thought I might as well post it!
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The corner of Matthew's mouth curled up involuntarily. It was hard not to smile when in his current position; laying in bed unclothed, facing his new wife. He was lying on his side, one arm under his pillow, his head turned to admire Mary as she lay in the same position. Their hands rested on the pillow between them, fingers languidly toying and stroking. They'd each spent the last few minutes simply looking at the other, relishing the ability to do so. No more interruptions, no more stolen moments, no more trying to fit dinner plans in amongst their busy schedules. Now there was no rush. There was no need to even speak. They could take as much time as they wanted, to pause and appreciate the wonder of their new spouse.
As his thumb tenderly rubbed over the two glistening rings on her left hand, Matthew cast his eyes over Mary's face, trying to decide which of her beautiful features was his favourite.
"I wonder what you'll look like when get you old." Mary's voice, hushed though it was, interrupted his thoughts.
He raised an eyebrow in surprise and amusement. "Is that what you've been thinking about?" He asked, smirking, still not realising what effect that smirk had on his wife. "You're worrying over what you'll be stuck looking at in forty years' time?"
"No…" Mary replied, with that smile of hers that managed to be coy and naughty at the same time. "I wasn't worrying about it. I just suddenly thought of how we'll be sharing a bed when we're old, and wondered what we'll be like then. How we'll have changed."
"Well, let's hope for both our sakes' that I'm not an incontinent, saggy bag of wrinkles." Matthew said very seriously, knowing it would elicit a giggle, which it did.
"All of this will be white." Mary said mischievously, removing her hand from his to rake her fingers down his torso and through the hair covering it.
Matthew narrowed his eyes at her. "I'm not particularly enjoying this glimpse into the future." He said, the smile returning to his face as Mary laughed happily into her pillow.
"You know I don't care about any of that." Mary reassured him, placing her hand in his once again. "What do you think it'll be like? When we're older?" She asked softly. Matthew had quickly learned that Mary loved these late-night talks, their meandering dialogues about subjects both silly and serious. He too found that there was something special about these conversations; he supposed it was because they took place at the end of the day, when they were both relaxed, in that place between waking and slumber which left them both completely unguarded in what they said.
"I think…" Matthew began, pondering his answer. "It'll be much like it is now. Except the house will be fuller." He grinned at the idea of their children keeping the house noisy.
"I do hope we're not going to be breeding layabouts who are still in their parents' home when they're in their thirties." Mary goaded, although the images Matthew was conjuring up filled her with a previously unknown level of excitement and hope.
Matthew chuckled. "Maybe they'll come back to visit with our grandchildren?" He offered, and Mary's heart burst at the thought.
"Maybe." She replied, squeezing his fingers in a futile attempt to convey the love she felt for him in that moment.
The young couple continued to gaze at each other for a few more moments, their minds brimming with eagerness and anticipation for the life they would be living together, hoping it would be as long and event-filled as possible.
Thoughts of the future eventually turned into thoughts of the past, and Matthew found himself recalling when being with Mary Crawley was nothing but a wishful fantasy, but one he could not seem to ever give up on.
"What are you thinking about?" Mary asked curiously, reading the more sombre look in her husband's eyes.
"Just remembering those times when I was hopelessly in love with you and you wouldn't even give me the time of day." Matthew replied, chuckling as Mary buried her head in the pillow to hide her blushes. Matthew seemed to delight in making her feel guilty about that time in their lives.
"How was I supposed to know you were in love with me?" Mary tried to defend herself for the umpteenth time. "You didn't act on it for months!"
"Of course I didn't act on it - you hated me!" Matthew responded quickly before Mary had the opportunity to tease him for his cowardliness in approaching her.
"I never hated you!" Mary assured him, shuffling closer to him on the bed so she could caress his face. "I could never hate you." She said sincerely, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. "Is that really why you never said anything?"
Matthew sighed softly, his eyes apologetic. The last thing he'd wanted was to make his darling, precious Mary blame herself for something that was really nobody's fault. "I think there was never a right time to tell you." He said diplomatically, and lovingly kissed her lips to ease away the frown on her pretty face.
"Did you ever worry that we'd never be together?" Mary asked, the thought occurring to her for the first time. The realisation that Matthew had feelings for her had come rather suddenly, meaning she hadn't considered his inner turmoil during the months before that.
Matthew gently stroked his index finger down the gloriously soft, warm skin of her cheek. Talking about that period of time, remembering the torment and desperation of not being with her, heightened how magnificent it was to be in bed like this, in their own home. "I did." Matthew said quietly. "But more than that - I worried that you'd never realise what you meant to me."
"What do you mean?" Mary frowned again, this time in mild confusion.
"I told myself I'd be able to handle never being in a relationship with you - that, as long as you were happy, I'd be content." Matthew explained, tracing a finger along her hairline. "But I loved you so deeply, so profoundly - it almost felt wrong for you to remain ignorant of it." His eyes followed the path of his finger as it tenderly outlined her lips, which were forming an ever-wider smile as he spoke. "I thought if anyone was loved that fully, they should know about it. And I wanted you to know that you had me. Whatever happened to you, whatever happened between us - even if we didn't speak for ten years - I wanted you to know that you'd still have me. That I'd be there for you." Matthew glanced up to his wife's eyes, his heart constricting when he saw large tears roll down her cheeks. "Darling, what is it?" He asked concernedly, and wiped the tears away with his thumb.
"I didn't know-" Mary said, her voice thick from crying. "I didn't know that you felt that way, for all that time." Matthew could practically see her mentally processing the information, working out how long he'd been in love with her before she knew it. "If you'd have told me back then-" She began, and Matthew knew what she was going to say.
"If I'd have told you back then that I was in love with you, you'd have thought I was crazy and set your father on me to get rid of me." Matthew interrupted, his voice deliberately light-hearted despite the truth in his statement. He smiled as he saw Mary realise she could offer no argument to that.
"I just…feel bad that you had to have those thoughts in the first place." Mary said regretfully. "I'm sure that, if things were the other way around and I had to stand back and love you from a distance, and contemplate never being with you, I wouldn't be able to cope!"
"Darling, we both know you're the stronger-willed of the two of us." Matthew said affectionately as he wiped an errant tear from her cheek.
"But when it comes to you…I simply don't know if I would be so strong-willed!" She replied, still frowning with great concern.
Matthew couldn't help but laugh at her panicked tone. "I don't know why you're stressing about this, Mary. We don't need to think about how you'd handle that situation, because it will never happen! We're married, remember?" He smirked, turning his head to kiss the palm of her left hand, which still cupped his cheek.
"That's true." Mary smiled back at him, a wave of warmth washing over her at the reminder that they'd never have to worry about being apart from now on. They were permanently bound together, just as it should be.
