A/N: I got the question if i could do one from Charles' POV. Much, much harder. I have no idea of a man's mind's intricate workings. I did my best however and even though i am not sure how it turned out - i feel it is a bit too mirrored - here it is!
As always: reviews much appreciated.

I don't think they know how much you care for them and i know they don't think about how you love me. But I do. I see you go about your day, gracefully, purposefully and I catch you on your way to the kitchens, stealing a kiss or two. I haven't forgotten how we were way back when I was just a valet and you were head housemaid. When we did everything in our power to seek each other out.

I remember kissing you in the courtyard, much like Mr Bates and Anna used to do when they were courting. I remember trying to find excuses to have you with me on trips to the village, getting a new shoehorn or handkerchiefs. All I felt then, I feel now, but life has caught up with me, with the pair of us. We will never be who we were then again. We have lost so much, gained experience, grown accustomed to each other in so many ways that nobody notices us and who we are.

Sometimes at night, when I read the evening paper and you are stitching away at a sock or knit Charlie a new jumper, I steal a glance at you and I marvel at how a man like me ended up with a goddess like you. I know everyone thinks i am inflexible, rigid, strict, but you know me better. The real me. You know that if I don't build those walls higher and higher still, I will let everything get to me. Like when Downton had to do without footmen during the war and I got into a state.

I saw how the color drained from your face when I collapsed and how you took charge of the dining room after ascertaining I was being cared for. Even tied to my own bed, the bed I never use, I told you what to do and you looked down at me, your exasperation obvious, telling me you couldn't stand having Molesley help with the dinners. Your uncertain words of how he misused his authority over the wine made me laugh inside. It also made me wince a bit.

Unlike me, you show how you feel. You let people know they are cared for. I remember you consoling William when he was first with us. He was homesick and you understood, because you are far away from home too. Downton is our home now, has been for many years, but when i saw you holding Anna to your chest, i remembered how you asked me if i ever thought about having gone another way.

I am proud of what we have achieved at Downton Abbey. Our lives' work is massive. We have respected the house and everyone in it respects us. Except maybe for Lady Grantham. I have not forgotten how i danced with her at the Servants' Ball back in the day and she would whisper in my ear that she hoped I had the good sense not to father any children with you. I had to use all my resolve not to let go of her and just walk away. I almost handed in my notice at the spot.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I see the pair of us, young and strong, with a brood of dark haired and blue eyed children and I wake up, feeling very much how I have let you down. You have had only others to care for, no-one of your own. I haven't been able to give you a daughter and it stings when I see you with Anna sometimes, though i imagine it stings you when I speak of Lady Mary. Maybe this is why you aren't very fond of her.

You are darning my sock. You have done this countless times. It must be the stairs and standing around. You stitching is so neat and even. I remember how you used to talk about becoming a Ladies' Maid instead of a Housekeeper. I am glad you are Housekeeper though, it keeps you close to me. You know I would have followed you wherever you wanted to go. If you would have wanted to leave Downton for a different life, I would have done everything in my power to give you what you needed.

We are not old yet, if you want, we can still change. It will be strange though. Not having Mrs Patmore yell at Daisy, not having Miss O'Brien's deadpan remarks. Not having his Lordship's library from which he allows us to take what ever we like. At the moment I have taken out a Dickens. You know he is my favorite.

When I laugh I can feel your eyes upon me and you check the clock, like you always do and tell me it is time for bed. I go first and we go into your room and I watch you undress. You are so beautiful still. I follow your every move: how you take off your shoes first and place them under the chair, how you carefully place your dress over the back of that same chair. You take off your stockings, revealing your long, strong legs and you take off your corset, showing me your perfect soft roundness. You brush out your hair and braid it, like you have done for the past thirty odd years and you slip into bed, you back pressed against my chest and my nose almost touches your head.

We fit together perfectly.

A/N: I am starting to see a series here... maybe one from Lady Violet's POV, or Anna's, or Mary's... anyone any suggestions? Or leave well enough alone?