Author- Emily-Grace Mendes (Brookebynature)

Disclaimer- I don't own One Tree Hill or any of the characters featured. Ha! Now you can't sue me :)

A/N- I know..I bet you guys are sick of me by now haha. But I get bored with just one story, so I thought if I alternate between updating this and 'These Arms' I might come up with better ideas. Don't think I'm not going to update that, I have the next chapter almost finished :) And if you haven't read it, GO READ! And review please :P

Hope you enjoy this, and please give me your feedback at the end xxx

Nude, With Calla Lilies

Chapter 1: Golden Shimmer

She was naked, beautiful calla lilies covering the skin of her breasts as her hazel eyes look straight at him. They beamed health as he surveyed her fair skin, shiny brunette hair covering delicate shoulders, a few wisps framing her face as creamy-white poked out from underneath.

'Nude, With Calla Lilies' Read the title, the artist his own wife, who was busy talking through a method used in creation of another of her works, a more moody piece that conveyed anger and depression over a highway of lights.

"You chose a good piece to look at." Spoke a raspy, shiveringly-sexy voice in his ear. He wasn't sure whether to turn around, but when a hand rested on his shoulder, and he felt hair tickling his neck just ever-so-slightly, he couldn't help himself.

"It's pretty good, even if I do say so myself."

Her face matched that of the goddess in the picture, and her sparkling hazel eyes were enough to makes his limbs weaken. Her skin and lips were pale, perhaps a slick of gloss left upon them by a delicate brush, while her eyes were painted with a golden shimmer to match the gold dress she was wearing.

"You're from the picture." He told her, dipping his head, partly in embarrassment that he'd just stated the obvious, partly because he didn't want to stop looking at her. Either way, he knew he had to, yet his blue eyes were still able to focus on a thin strap of her black sandals.

She nodded. "That's me."

He afforded a quick glance towards his wife, dressed in a simple but beautifully elegant black cocktail dress. She didn't need to impress-the night wasn't about her. It was about the paintings. Still engrossed in conversation about essential tools, he offered her a half smile for blind eyes before turning his attentions back to the sultry brunette before him.

She laughed lightly, displaying dimples either side of her lips as she shook her head. "Brooke Davis." She held her hand out to him. "And you?"

"Um Lucas." He told her, a nervous smile spreading across his face, never quite reaching his eyes for fear of guilt overtaking him. He shouldn't have bothered trying to mask it. Guilt for the feeling she was giving him was there anyway.

"Scott." He quickly added, taking her hand in a loose grip, before she tightened her fingers around his rougher skin and felt his palms start to sweat.

-

Art hadn't been important to Lucas Scott before he'd met Peyton Sawyer. He rarely took the time to stand and look at paintings, least of all the ones that resembled ridiculous things such as trash cans or unimportant household equipment. He still failed to fully appreciate the value of certain pieces of art, preferring photographs of landscapes or other features of nature.

But he was married now, ironically, to an artist whom he had met at a charity exhibition. Lucas wasn't one to visit galleries or showcases, but after being dragged along by his brother's wife Haley, who had insisted on having a man's opinion on a certain piece she wished to buy, Lucas had met blonde-haired, blue-eyed Peyton Sawyer.

She was everything he had thought of back in high school, when girls rarely spent time with him and he'd had to imagine conversations with girls, just to relate to the shows on t.v.

She was sharp and funny, sharing the same outlook on life that he did, her sense of humour a match for his own as pale skin met his tan, and blue eyes locked on blue.

They had married in a small church, decorated with lemon roses, even though Peyton claimed not to like flowers. It had only been their families there to watch as both promised to love until death do them part, and stay faithful as rings were exchanged, and once bare fingers now owned shiny gold bands.

They lived in the suburbs, just outside of New York, in a house large enough for children and pets, yet none had arrived. Summer nights were warm and hazy, and Winter nights were cold and brisk, with snow covering the ground for the duration of the Christmas holidays.

Peyton didn't like the holidays so much, preferring to vacation somewhere to avoid what she termed 'commercialisation' which had ruined the true meanings of each holy holiday. Lucas would have preferred to stay in their house with it's large tree, exchanging gifts with his family like he had always done when he was younger. Now he was nearing thirty, and family tradition didn't seem so important any more, not when he had a new family now.

-

"Do you like the painting?" Brooke asked, her feet inching her body closer to Lucas as he tried to shift his weight from one foot to the other in a desperate bid to stop his legs from shaking.

"I love the painting."

"She's an amazing artist." Brooke continued, fingering the picture, even though the sign above clearly stated not to touch. "I love the detail she includes in every painting."

"She is amazing." Lucas agreed, turning his head to witness Peyton laughing at something a lady in a navy floor-length dress was telling her. "She painted a great adaptation of Fifth Avenue that hangs in my living room."

"You have many of her paintings?" Brooke asked.

"All over my house." He replied simply. "She's my wife."

Brooke raised an eyebrow at him before picking up his left hand with the gold ring on his fourth finger. "You kept that one to yourself."

Lucas shrugged, trying his best to avoid Brooke somewhat questioning eyes. "You didn't ask."

"Are you guys happy?" She asked, receiving a frown from the man in front of her.

"Yes."

Her stare was interrupted by a man accidentally bumping into Lucas, apologising before moving to the next painting along the back wall of the room. He wondered whether the temperature had suddenly decreased, making the white walls seem even colder and the wood floor even harsher, or whether he simply hadn't felt it before.

"Lucas!" He took the hand placed on the bottom of his waist, forcing a smile as Peyton beamed at him, flushed with excitement and enthusiasm. "Oh, Hi Brooke."

The brunette offered a small wave and a dimpled smile.

"I was just going to introduce you two but I guess you've already met."

Lucas nodded, entwining his fingers with those of his wife as Brooke smiled back at them, giving Lucas a highly uneasy feeling.

Had Peyton told her there was something wrong with their marriage? Was she having an affair? Did she think he was having an affair?

"Brooke was so great at the shoot. It would have killed me to stay still for that long." Peyton laughed lightly.

"I wasn't that great." Brooke replied modestly. "I kept dropping that one flower, do you remember?"

Lucas looked between the two women as they recalled their day spent making the painting that had become a focal point of the room, with guests admiring both Brooke's beauty and Peyton's elegant brush strokes.

Peyton thanked people for their compliments, blushing when told that she should be more than proud of herself for her achievements.

-

Lying in bed later that night, with an arm underneath Peyton's naked body, Lucas lay restless, having failure sleeping. His wife's lips stayed closed as he brushed them with his own, her eyes never once fluttering open to witness his angst.

Brooke's question replayed in his head as he thought out the possible reasons for her asking whether the two of them were happy. With no ideas as to why things between the two of them might not be as good as he had thought, Lucas ran a hand through his blonde hair, stopping at his neck to rub harshly enough to leave a red mark behind.

"Lucas?" Peyton questioned her husband's state, eyes tired yet his head refusing to let them rest.

"Are you happy Peyton?" He asked, continuing to stare at the ceiling. She sat up a little, confusion evident in her face as she waited for him to elaborate.

"Of course I'm happy." She replied. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I just…I thought you might not be."

She laughed a little, shaking her head as she laid it back down on the pillow. "I'm happy."

As Lucas watched Peyton drift back off to sleep, her words weren't enough to convince him. The more he thought, the more he wondered whether he was actually happy. He failed to remove Brooke's face from his mind, able to recall almost every detail about the stunning feature of his wife's latest masterpiece.

"Those who are faithful know only the trivial side of love: It is the faithless who know love's tragedies."

Please review guys xxx