Don't close your eyes:
Cora Crawley sat in her bed high within Downton Abbey, contemplating. She ran one finger across the top of her hand, tracing the lines that the years had caused. Her mother had always told her that you could tell a woman's age by her hands and as such, Cora had taken special care of them. Each night she had put on lotion, had been careful of the weather, and yet she had been unable to prevent the passage of time. She twisted the ring on her left hand. Her hand looked a lot different now than when Robert had first put it on her finger all those years ago.
Robert.
Her heart seized with a strange sense of longing and pain. Her Robert who was apparently no longer hers. Her body may have healed from that malicious flu but her heart seemed unable to cope with the trauma. She had read somewhere that blunt force trauma was often fatal. Yet, she hadn't died. Cora was surprised because the force that threatened to crush her at break neck speed seemed blunt to her.
Perhaps it was her age. That maid had been younger, and perhaps in some ways more attractive then her, something that youth often gave to those blessed with it. Robert was unaware as of yet that she knew. It had been a few days and the maid had been dismissed ( for reasons not altogether clear-although Cora was loathe to start complaining) but it did nothing to lessen the pain. Cora had thought about confronting Robert but deep inside there was a nagging voice begging her to let it be. Perhaps she wanted to pretend that it was a flu induced nightmare and she dreaded the forthcoming confirmation that it had not been. But, perhaps worse was the fear that the confrontation would expose her worst fear- that Robert did not just lust after the younger woman. That he loved her.
Without warning, the door to her bedroom opened, interrupting her musings. Robert stood in the doorway, as handsome as ever. He may have had graying hair and a bit more evidence of the years upon his face, but his mere appearance could still turn her head. He gave her a soft smile and began to climb into the bed. He had not shared her bed since the flu but as her health seemed to be returning, he must have thought this was an appropriate time to return as well. He leaned towards her, giving her a goodnight kiss on the cheek, oblivious to her inner turmoils.
Cora watched as he turned to settle down for bed and suddenly it was as if an other worldly force possessed her. They had been distant and she was instantly so tired of the distance. With the flu and the war and the death all around them, they were so lost. She needed to know that this ship of theirs would somehow cross the raging seas into safe harbor and not be sunk by sirens or jagged rocks. She needed truth so she employed their usual method of lie detecting. She kissed him.
He pulled back abruptly and for a moment Cora's heart seized once more. But he simply raised an eyebrow in askance and searched her face for consent. She wasn't sure if he knew if she knew or perhaps was afraid she wasn't well enough yet. But she only nodded yes, frantically afraid that given a second to think she would back out, afraid of the truth. She kissed him hungrily,desperate for the knowledge of his continuing love, desperate to know if he loved her.
As their tongues found a familiar rhythm, Cora let out a sigh inside his mouth. She had missed this connection to him. As he began suckling her neck and lifting the hem of her nightgown Cora groaned. His hands were everywhere and she needed his clothes off. She began the familiar routine of removing his clothing as he continued his trail of kisses. As they began a slow dance of rhythm she whispered only a single phrase "Robert, please don't close your eyes."