Thanks to my procrastinating, I finally got this chapter down. I'm so sorry for not updating sooner and I got a couple of reviews in the interim reminding me to, so thanks for that. I'm super busy with college apps and my full senior year schedule (I'm regretting it), so I don't know when I will be able to update again. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

Lucas never had much of a taste of the good things in life and he could very easily say he had no desire to. The good things fade, turn into something lesser. Now, the argument could be made with a bottle of aged wine, but give it two hundred years to sit and all that would be left was a grape juice that had more value in the toilet than enriching the palette.

Besides, it was much more exciting, more poetic to dwell on the darker things. Those that pulled on the heartstrings and gave a realistic recollection, slightly readjusted by the highs and lows of a couple shots of absinthe, held its weight in the world and hit closer to home. Truth was writing was about the experience, not about the decorations. The kid on Ludlow battling his inner demons in a familiar world was far more interesting than the unwarranted, frivolous frustrations of the rich. A little pocket change and anyone could hope to be in the highest accolades of society. Turn it around, there was a lot more to lose to experience the deep corners of the mind.

Sometimes the thoughts were enough to drive anyone insane. That was why Lucas drank so much. He knew that no matter how terrifying his thoughts were, he could control them. Yet when his brother threw him a curveball, he struggled to knock it out of the park. His feelings were no longer in check and the best he could manage was a hit over the foul post.

All his life, he looked after his brother. It was his job. It put him in a difficult position when Nathan did the same. Regardless, they were brothers and that's what they were supposed to do. Never would he imagine, though, that his brother would ask him to stop seeing a woman.

Nathan was a carefree guy, never had much beef with anyone. If he did, you could bet good money that the other person started it. The look on his face when he told Lucas the other night was the absolute lowest Lucas had ever seen him.

The blond would be lying if he said he wasn't in the exact same mood. His brother was all the family he had and normally, he had no problem giving Nathan what he wanted, but this was out of the question. Or so he thought. The problem was Nathan couldn't make him understand. All his life he was a person trying to understand which stands to reason why he didn't grant his request. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier if he had a reason.

He strolled into the apartment just as Nathan awoke and set a waxy, brown bag on the table. "Bratwurst?"

Nathan chuckled. "Special occasion?"

"No, more of a truce than anything."

"I wasn't aware we were at odds."

Lucas shrugged. "I didn't want to take the chance. And it gives me a good excuse to talk to you… about Brooke."

"Luke…" Nathan sighed.

"No. Just hear me out alright? I don't know what's happened in the interim, but that's what's keeping me from cutting all ties with a woman that clearly makes me happy."

Nathan ran his tongue around his cheek and crossed his arm. "You said it yourself, your relationship is nothing more than sex. Maybe you're mistaking happiness for sexual gratification."

"Wow. Really?" asked Lucas in disbelief.

"Look, I can't give you a reason and I think this is something stupid to fall out over. We've got each other's backs from the beginning and that's never going to change. Trust me on this."

Against better judgment, he found himself considering Nathan's words. If he didn't trust his brother, who else could he trust?

She moved herself to perfectly nest herself inside his arms, those perfect, shimmering green eyes looking up at the man she loved.

He stared back at her with equally loving eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

"You. Us. Everything. This… does this thing between us keep going or does it end at some point?" She began tracing lazy circles on his bare chest, sometimes an occasional letter if she saw fit.

He chuckled. "I would hope this lasts, I'm marrying you for God's sake."

That wasn't the answer she was looking for nor did it answer much. She sighed in resignation and took the sheets with her. The white treads trailed behind her were the foam surrounding Venus. Her back was exposed and her hair hung asymmetrically over her right shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, out of courtesy.

"I… nothing. I love you…" she said defeated.

The creasing of his brows appeared on his face, "I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"Just forget it."

He abandoned the soft confines of the bed and wrapped his arms behind her. He placed his chin on her shoulder and softly whispered, "I love you. I don't know why and I'm never going to question it, but I do. And I know I keep saying this union was practically written in the stars, but we could just have easily ended up with others in our social bracket. I'd like to think I ended up with you for a reason, whatever that reason may be. I'll be damned if I do something stupid to ruin this because at the end of the day, it's just you and me."

Just like that, she felt the tension in her muscles loosen and her body surrendering to his in a soft embrace. She inhaled and closed her eyes, to let the world pass her by. She couldn't tell what would happen tomorrow, the day after, a week from now, or what would happen in the next month. All she could say for certain was that they had this, this moment and it would matter a hell of a lot more when the world fell apart.

The scary part was knowing it was going to, without the slightest idea of when. And when worse came to worst, she knew that the difficulty would come in letting go.

"I hope you guys don't mind that I'm third wheeling and all." Lucas squinted as the rays of life struck his face. Odd, seeing as it was late December, but a welcoming sight nonetheless.

"Not if you don't mind being seen with me," Skills said. Bevin was walking next to him, but the two kept a considerable amount of distance. No hand-holding either. A safety precaution really. "It could just as easily been a double date. Too bad you ain't got enough sense in that head of yours to tie a girl like that down." He had a joking tone but Lucas wasn't laughing. He had more of a grim expression on his face.

"So what do you do, Lucas?" Bevin asked innocently, quickly changing the subject.

Lucas dug his hands in his pocket and even though he turned to face her, and away from the sun, he still bore the squint. "I work down by the docks, moving crates all day."

"That's how you know he's got a proper head on his shoulders," Skills put a sturdy hand on Lucas' shoulder, "But he's not meant for carrying crates, not Luke here."

She pried, "What's my baby talking about?"

"I, uhh…" Lucas tried to answer.

"Smart bastard here is a writer. Give him a pen and paper, he'll make a symphony out of words. Best writer I've ever met." Skills gleamed with pride as he boasted about his friend.

Lucas laughed nervously. "I'd hardly call myself a writer. And you're biased Skills, not to mention that I'm the only one you've met."

"Ah, hell. What difference does it make?" Skills held the door open for the both of them.

As soon as they walked in, they drew the glances of everyone in the room. After all, a white man, a white woman, and a black man made for the unlikeliest of groups. When they noticed it, they stopped in their tracks.

Lucas scoffed and opened his arms to its full wingspan. "Can I help you guys?" Those cowards turned straight back around and ignored them.

Skills realized the atmosphere of the establishment and it was one he had no care for. "Maybe we should go." He grabbed Lucas' arm to pull him out.

"Why? We have as much a right to be here as anyone else. We're staying." The blond knew that one day he would look back and hate himself for getting himself in trouble like this, and for letting his emotions control his actions, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't stand up for Skills.

Bevin looked to Skills for an answer, but Skills just shrugged. "Alright," he said defeated.

The defiant blond walked up to the bar as the other two followed suit. The bartender immediately catered to them. "What can I get you and your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend. I'll take three beers. Whatever's on tap is fine."

Meanwhile one of the workers had gone out back to tell the manager about the gutsy kid who was causing a riot, if you could even call it that. The rather corpulent man stopped his bartender abruptly. "Make that two beers."

Lucas furrowed his brows in confusion. "I ordered three beers. Now I just got here and I haven't been drinking anywhere else, so there's no way in hell you're cutting me off."

"We don't serve his kind," he nodded toward Skills.

Skills was no stranger to these racist types. These snide comments were nothing and entertaining them with a response would only result in his punishment. The law protected the white folk, not him. He was better than that though, but they didn't know that. The last thing he wanted to do was reinforce the notion of a savage race. That was the farthest thing from what his kind were. Skills tried again to pull Lucas away, but the stubborn man pulled his arm right back.

"What kind is that? Human? Because you're serving me and you're serving her." Lucas pointed briefly to Bevin. "We didn't come in here looking for trouble. We just want beers."

"I get that. It's perfectly fine. You can get your beers as long as this man leaves," the manager tried to assuage the growing hostility. A group of men thought it wise to stand up in case Lucas made the first move.

"I can't get my beers and have him stay?" he asked, knowing the answer. The manager shook his head briskly. Lucas shrugged nonchalantly and pretended to walk out of the bar, only to do a 180 and land his fist right on the man's face.

The group of men quickly advanced, reaching for Skills, as someone tended to the manager.

Seeing this, Lucas ran for them, jabbing one on the jaw and kneeing another in the stomach. "Get your girlfriend and go, I can handle this."

Skills shook his head and sighed. He quickly whispered in her ear, "You go first. I'll get back to you."

Bevin hesitated.

"GO!"

She was scared for him, scared for them. The only thing she could do right now was listen and hope that he'd find his way back.

A man charged for the blond, who quickly grabbed the back of his shirt and tossed him over, breaking a table in the process.

"I always have to bail your dumb ass out," Skills joked.

"Better me than Nathan right?" Lucas threw back.

Elsner was going to appreciate the sight of him. Cut above the eyelid, another on the cheek. A busted lip. Some fucker managed to cut his arm as well. The scarlet liquid was seeping through his shirt and formed a small puddle on the floor as he hung his arm lazily. He could care less as it ran its course over his skin.

Maybe it was laziness. Maybe it was pain. He couldn't bring himself to tend to the wounds and instead, drank himself into oblivion. He managed to take a couple bottles of stout on his way out. His trophy, in a way.

He heard the keys jingling just outside the door. "Guess that little fucker finally decided to come home," thought Lucas.

Close but no cigar. Brunette, but with quite different assets.

Upon seeing her wrecked lover, she practically ran and cupped his face. "Shit, what did you do to yourself?"

"Nothing. Minor wounds," he said uninterestedly. He took another swig from the bottle.

It wasn't until she inspected the wounds that he looked down into her eyes. His lips were still attached to the aperture, but he slowly withdrew from it and planted them on her lips. The nerve endings on his lips were screaming at him to stop. Despite this, he needed to kiss her right now. He needed to know there was something more.

To his chagrin, she pushed his chest softly to distance the two of them. She turned away with a pained expression on her face, one that Lucas never expected to see.

"God, I want to so bad. I do… We have to get you cleaned up, you're in no condition to be kissing me." She ran her fingers delicately over his lips.

"Don't. It doesn't even hurt." He finished off the contents and set it down on the table.

She ignored him and went into the kitchen to find bandages and rubbing alcohol.

If he wasn't in so much pain, he would be laughing right now. Whoever would have imagined that Brooke Davis would be cleaning wounds? To some degree, he should have been scared at the thought. He caught her hand in time before she could apply the liquid to his arm. "I told you. Don't." His voice was as low as it was dangerous.

"Let me bandage you up. Don't be an ass." She snapped.

He glared at her. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off with Baker somewhere?"

She was doing her best not to react like she normally would. With her parents and her boyfriend, she had to bury her anger and pretend everything was okay. With Lucas, she unleashed the full force of her wrath. There was something liberating about letting herself go and lashing out. Because he was hurt, she didn't want to go through their usual motions. She sighed and tried again. "He's somewhere and I'm here."

"So what? I'm just here to pass the fucking time?" Lucas found himself blowing up at her even though he wasn't sure what he was blaming her for. All those years built on his shoulders and against better judgment, he was unloading his burden. "If that's all I am to you, then get the fuck out. I don't want to see you anymore."

She drew back, shocked. The look on her face, though, was one of determination and if he wanted to be a stubborn bastard, she could be equally as stubborn. She never was the patient type anyway. "We agreed. This was just sex. I don't know where this is coming from, but I can't do this. Look at you, you're not equipped to be handling a relationship with someone. God, how could you do something so stupid? You practically get yourself killed and expect me to stay and accept it? Then there's me. For God's sake, I'm not even with you. I'm engaged to be engaged to another man. And there's the matter of you putting me on a pedestal. I've tried to ignore it, but when you look at me, it's like you think I'm perfect."

He scoffed. "I don't think you're perfect. You're broken and so am I. We're messed up people and I never expected anything, much less for us to fix each other. But hell, if there's anything in my eyes when I look at you, it's understanding. Clearly, it's not reciprocated."

Sometimes he made her want to rip her hair out in frustration. "You're so difficult and, and…"

"Spit it out. I'm a grown man, I can handle it," he challenged.

"You're tasteless, you don't clean up after yourself, you drink like a fish and curse like a sailor, you have anger management issues, you're fucking stupid, you blow things out of proportion, you're aggravating, you're narrow-minded and stubborn, you're stuck in a shitty job, you don't take initiative when it comes to things that matter, you live in your own fucking world with no regard for what's happening around you. You dream and talk about life problems when you're knee deep in your own. You're the worst writer I've ever read and I hate you."

He narrowed his eyes and cornered her into the wall. "Tough shit princess. Get off your fucking throne. You drink as much as I do. You smoke as much as I do. And you've used at least three curses in that speech alone. You think you're not difficult? You want to see how much of my shit you've broken since you've been here? You let the man you love treat you like shit, but the best you can do is seek comfort in other men's arms. You think I live in my own world when you have yet to see what the world past 5th avenue is like. You accuse me incessantly of things I've never done. I have problems, but you've got just as many as I do. And for the record, I hate you too. It's not hard to see why Julian doesn't want to be around you." It was too late to retract his words and he realized it too late as her hand came crashing down on his face. He ran his tongue along his burning cheek. "At least you care enough to hit the uninjured side," he muttered.

Apparently he spoke too soon. She took the liberty of gracing the other side of his face with her hand's presence.

"Fucking hell." He stopped to look at her face, which was now stained with tears. Fucking hell was right. He wanted to kill Julian for breaking her the last time she showed up at his apartment in the middle of night. Now here he was, doing the exact same thing. With bruised knuckles, it was going to be hard to pound himself in.

She grabbed her bag and tried to leave.

He took her arm and pulled her back. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that." He ran his fingers through her hair all the while grateful that she stayed instead of slapping him and walking the other way. "Look, I've got a lot of things on my mind, but that's still no excuse for me to talk to you like that. You're right, we're just two people having sex. There's no reason we should be getting in fights about each other. I mean, we barely even know each other, right?" he said lamely.

She was struggling to not break down anymore than she already was. Her only response was a timid whisper. "I can't fall in love with you Lucas. I just can't."

"I get that. So no problems from me, okay?" He was trying his best to make things the way they were and maybe she did make him happy, but it didn't matter. Things couldn't change for them. "Are you going to bandage this ass? He can't do it by himself."

She stared at him with the eyes of her ten-year-old self. Quietly, she brought him to his chair. And they sat there for the longest time in complete silence while she tried not to hurt him too much.

He was doing a great job of pretending she didn't, especially when she would press down on his cuts a little too hard. As she closed the box, he placed his hand on hers. "Thanks. You should get going, Baker's going to be waiting for you." Without another word, he got up and retreated to his room, closing the door quietly upon arrival.

He could never bring himself to end things openly. If Nathan saw him right now, he'd call him out for being a coward. Then he'd stop being the asshole he was and comfort his big brother, saying it was for the best. In those last words, he hoped desperately that the message was louder than anything his words ever counted for before.

I know some of you have been wanting to see what Julian and Brooke's relationship is like. I basically touched upon it in this chapter, in addition to causing more problems. And if any of you are hating Nathan right now, you'll soon learn about his reasoning. Until next time.