Title: Caravaggio

Author: Danielle

Rating: T (maybe more later)

Word Count: 4030

Characters/Pairings: Edward, Bella (Edward/Bella)

Genre: Drama, AU-AH

Short summary: Bella's parents have commissioned a painting to be done of her. She is in for a shock when that artist is a man named Edward Cullen. He's too smooth and too good looking. It's not long before Bella is taking her clothes off for him.

Any warnings: the rating on this may increase later.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; SM is the creator of this universe.

Author's note: Betaed by Sophie who has been absolutely wonderful. This story came to mind during my Fine and Performing Arts class (FAPA). I decided to have a little fun with it.

Chapter One: Subject Matter

His name was Edward Cullen and he had been commissioned by my parents to do my portrait. The whole thing sounded kind of out of style to me, but what I thought has ever been of any great importance in the Swan household. This matter was no different.

Despite this whole portrait thing, my parents weren't made of money like one might think. Not that that mattered much to them, of course. Renee, my mother, was part of the Junior League and had managed to find herself in all the right social circles, even when her net worth didn't quite meet the minimum requirement. My father, Charlie, was head of the Phoenix police department. While that held a certain cache, it didn't hurt that he golfed at the country club where anybody who was anybody in Arizona golfed. My parents were like many Americans, living past their means to provide some semblance of a stable, upper middle class home life.

Their lie was bigger than most, though. Their lie included country club fees more than my mother sometimes made in a month and a mortgage on their mortgage. This whole portrait thing was just another notch on the bedpost of ideas to appear better off than they were because that was all Charlie and Renee cared about—looking rich.

Normally, I took their schemes with a grain of salt. In a year I would be off to college. I knew they would find a way to pay for it because they wouldn't be able to hold their heads up in polite society again if their daughter didn't get into a good school. But this portrait thing was ridiculous. I didn't care how good Edward Cullen was or how many people had gotten their portrait done by him. I mean, this was the twenty-first century! What happened to photographers? Did people even paint anymore?

"Isabella," Renee said coolly as I made my protest known. It was one thing to watch my parents go into debt up to their eyeballs. It was an entirely different thing to commit myself to sit for some ridiculous portrait that could end up taking ages.

"I don't have time—"

"I don't want to hear that," Renee cut me off. "Find the time. Mrs. Stanley just had Jessica's portrait done, she found the time. We don't ask much from you, Isabella, I don't see why you can't do this one thing for us. Besides, you'll be going off to college next year. Now we'll have this beautiful painting as a reminder of your lovely face."

Right, that was the reason why she wanted a painting—not because she wanted to brag to all her friends about how she'd gotten a painting commissioned. I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. I wanted to tell her to just take a picture, but I didn't know where that would lead. Next thing you know it would be in vogue to have a photographer follow you around for a week straight. No point in giving her any more ideas.

"Fine," I mumbled, grabbing my bag to head for school. "When does this start?" I don't know why I fought in the first place—we both always knew I would cave.

"Oh, you won't regret this, baby. Mr. Cullen will be here promptly at four," Renee said, bustling with excitement.

I rolled my eyes. This was the stupidest idea of all ideas and I was going to be stuck with Mr. Painter all by myself. Just perfect.

I dreaded the end of school the entire day. That had to be a rarity. Most kids my ages were bursting at the seams to get out of this god forsaken place. Not me. When the bell rang, I reluctantly walked to my car and drove the long way home. When I got there, I showered and found the outfit Renee had laid out for me. I nearly vomited when I saw it. It was a dress—a purple, floral print dress. I closed my eyes and counted backwards from ten. This was just—wrong. I couldn't think of any other word that would fit. It wasn't bad enough I was getting my painting done, but I also had to do it in this dress? Fuck. My. Life. I didn't use expletives often, but this called for one.

Eyeing the dress wearily, I thought about wearing something different. I had a number of other dresses I could probably wear. But resistance, as they say, is futile. If I didn't wear it and things got underway on the painting and Renee found out, she might make Mr. Painter start all over again. And sitting for any longer than I had to was out of the question.

I stared at the dress a moment longer. The cut wasn't that awful looking. The dress was casual, cotton, maybe a little outdated. It was the purple fabric with the loud floral print that really did it in. I sighed. This dress would forever be captured in time in a painting that was probably more expensive than my mom's tennis bracelet she got for Christmas last year (thank you AMEX).

What could I do though? With great reluctance I pulled the dress on and tied the back to try and make it look at least somewhat presentable.

I'd just managed finish drying my hair when I heard the doorbell ring. I glanced at the clock. It was 4:10. Prompt my ass. I scurried down the stairs and pulled open the door, ready to meet Mr. Painter.

I was not as ready as I thought.

Staring back at my from just beyond the door frame was a man, maybe a few years older than me, with a cigarette hanging from his lips and hair in a coppery tangled mess on his head. He was tall and lean, filling out the fitted shirt he was wearing just enough for me to know he didn't spend his days sitting on the couch eating potato chips. More than the beautiful tussled hair and the fit body though, his face was extraordinary. I'd never really bought into the whole beautiful jaw line thing, but I could see it now. His features were angular, but extremely attractive in ways I hadn't previously thought imaginable. The last thing I noticed were his eyes, they were the color of jade, perfect and unnerving all at the same time.

"H-hi," I stammered out, cheeks flushing red with the embarrassment of having just thoroughly checked him out.

He stubbed his cigarette out on the ground and then he smiled. I wasn't ready for the parting of those beautiful lips into a perfect, lopsided grin. If I could have physically melted at that moment, I probably would have already been a pile of goo.

"Please tell me you're Isabella," he replied, too suave for his own good.

"It's just Bella, actually," I said carefully, stepping back to let him into the house.

"Well, Just Bella, I'm Edward and I'm here to paint you. Where should we get started?" The teasing tone in his voice was not lost on me. I didn't know how to react to it though. Most of the boys in my high school were just that - insecure boys. Mr. Painter, I was keenly aware, was very much a man. He turned my insides to jelly in a way that didn't make sense.

"I, uh… my mom said she wanted it done in front of the fireplace, so you can go ahead and set up there," I said, leading him through our house to the sitting room. I paused just outside the doorway, watching as he stepped inside the immaculately kept, hardly ever used, room.

"This will do, I suppose." He clicked his tongue.

"How are you old enough to be a painter?" I asked, feeling the words come out of their own volition.

Mr. Painter chuckled and turned to look at me. My breath caught in my throat. His stare was unnerving. I had no idea how I was going to make it through this alive.

"Let's just say I'm a quick learner," he replied, stepping closer to me. I found myself involuntarily stepping back.

"You should probably bring your stuff in."

He smirked. "I should."

I was like a scared rabbit being cornered by a predator. I didn't know if I should just stand still and hope he went away, or run for it. Neither seemed like a very viable option. In the end I chose run. "I can help you," I said, darting back towards the door.

I heard a low chuckle but kept walking until I was outside, breathing in the cool air. It calmed my nerves a bit, but not much.

"My car is this way," Mr. Painter's voice whispered in my ear.

I shuttered and closed my eyes for a moment. I could feel his breath on my neck. This man was dangerous, I was sure of it. Edward pulled away and headed for his car, I followed a moment later.

It took half an hour and a lot of heart pounding moments, but eventually we got everything set up inside the house. We arranged some of the furniture in the sitting room until Edward found a position he liked, and then he instructed me to sit. I did without a word.

"We're going to start with a sketch," he explained, his voice soft and alluring. I found myself entranced by it immediately. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Good, because you'll need to sit still like that for a little while."

"Okay." I started to nod, and then stopped myself. Sit still, I needed to sit still.

The room grew quiet and Edward began to draw. He would stare at the sketchpad for a moment, hands fluidly moving, drawing, and then he would look at me. Every time he did, I could feel every hair on my body stand on end. I couldn't explain the reaction. It had to be chemical or biological or something; maybe I was allergic to his cologne. Nothing else made sense.

The minutes ticked by and at times Edward would instruct me not to move my hand or to keep my face relaxed. I did the best I could. I'd never sat for anyone before—this was new territory. When six o'clock hit, the clock in the dining room chimed and Edward glanced down at his watch.

"I should get going," he said.

"Oh," I breathed out, using my voice for the first time in over an hour. "Yeah, of course." I stood up, stretching my muscles a bit. I'd only been sitting, but being so still had taken its toll.

"You did really well," Edward said, beginning to pack up his things.

I blushed. "Thank you."

"You ever thought about posing nude?"

My head went up in shock and I half expected to see one of those gotcha smiles plastered on his face. There wasn't though. No, instead he looked deadly serious, like he was already taking my clothes off with his eyes. I felt the sudden need to cover up.

"I-I… couldn't—my parents, I just… no," I managed out, too flushed to form a coherent sentence.

Edward smiled, looking me up and down for a moment before gathering his supplies. "If you change your mind…"

He left the sentence hanging there as he turned and left the house. I stared at his retreating form, unable to say anything.

Edward was next scheduled to come by on Thursday. I had an entire day free from him to worry and pace about what was going to happen. Would I act like an idiot around him like I had on Tuesday? I sure hoped not. Thursday morning, I thought about feigning sick, but I knew Renee wouldn't be convinced. Or even if she was, she'd probably make me sit anyway. I knew she wanted this done so she could brag about it already. So I went to school, and once again the day went by in a flash. Before I knew it, it was four and I was in that stupid purple dress again.

The doorbell rang at 4:13 on the dot and I scurried to answer it. I didn't think it was possible, but as it turned out, Edward looked ever better today. He was wearing a white button down shirt, the top few buttons undone, drawing my eyes instantly to them. He was also in a pair of dark jeans. They hung low on his waist and I couldn't help but let my eyes travel the length of him.

"Bella?" he chuckled.

"Sorry." I shook my head, stepping back to let him in.

"We're going to finish the sketch today," he said, moving into the house. His shoulder brushed against mine, causing an electric shock. He didn't seem to notice, so I kept my mouth shut and led us into the sitting room. I took a seat in the chair I'd been sitting in, and waited for him to set up.

"You seem nervous, Bella," Edward said. The way his lips wrapped around my name made it hard for me to think. It took me a second to realize that he was addressing me and another few moments to formulate a response.

"I'm not nervous," I said belatedly.

Edward chuckled and shook his head. I watched as his hand moved, detailing out the sketch he was doing. I wondered what he was seeing, what the sketch looked like. Was he really as good as everyone said he was? Or had he just charmed his way into polite society? Scamming rich families out of their not so hard earned cash.

"Bella, move your hand to the right," Edward said, looking between me and the sketchpad. I did, but he shook his head. He set the pad down and stood up. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he approached. He gently took my hand and positioned it the way he wanted it. He stepped back a moment, examining me quickly, before moving back to his seat to finish the sketch.

My hand tingled where he had touched me.

Edward finished the rest of the sketch is silence. At half past five, I watched as he closed the sketch pad and looked up at me. "I'm done," he said softly.

"Okay." I stood and stretched. I couldn't wait to get out of the stupid purple dress.

"I'm not really sure what to do. Your mother paid for me to be here until six. I hate the idea of wasting her money," Edward said, his voice suggestive and soft. There was no way he would have time to set up the paints. By the time we got everything in here it would be time for him to leave.

"Oh… well…." I didn't know what to say. My manners kicked in belatedly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Do you have any whiskey?" he asked, smirking as my eyes went wide.

"You shouldn't drink and drive." I shook my head. "I can get you a coke though. Or iced tea."

"I'm fine, Bella, I was just joking. Unless you do have some Jack lying around," he said, feigning seriousness. I rolled my eyes and he laughed at me.

"I'll make sure to put it on my mother's grocery list," I teased back.

"I appreciate that. Hey, you don't want to see the sketch, do you?"

"I would love to." I hadn't expected him to offer, but I did desperately want to see. I closed the distance between us and watched as he reached for the sketch pad and opened it up for me to see.

"Here," he said, putting his hand on my waist and maneuvering me around so I was standing right next to him. "What do you think?"

I stared down at the picture, feeling myself blush as seeing it. I didn't look like me. I mean, I did, but it wasn't how I normally looked. I was different—beautiful almost. I didn't know what to say. He'd taken homely me and made me look great. No wonder he was so sought after. Apparently there was more to this man than just charm and good looks.

"Wow," was about as verbose as I got in his presence. "You're really good."

Edward shrugged, flipping the sketch pad closed. I noticed something as he did, and without thinking, reached out to stop him. "What was that?" I asked, carefully flipping the pages back to what I'd seen. When I found it, I stared at in shock for a moment. It was a picture of a woman, naked and sitting up in bed with a sheet clinging to her, revealing some parts and hiding others.

"You did this?" I asked, taking the picture in. There was so much life to it, much more than in my picture. I felt like the woman in this sketch was living and breathing, where as the sketch of me felt more formal—like a snapshot.

"I did," Edward answered. I could feel his eyes on me, watching my reaction.

"This is really good. I mean… well, I don't know what I mean. It's different though," I said, trying to find the right words. They weren't coming very well.

"I work better with the human form I guess. Portraits pay the bills, but this, to me, is art," he explained.

"Naked women are art?" I asked, my eyebrow arching in a challenge.

Edward reached over and flipped back a few pages to the form of a man standing nude in front of a mirror. He looked tired and worn down. He was a little older that the woman in the last sketch, you could see that in his eyes, but his body was lean and sinewy.

"I work with the human form. Male, female, whatever," he explained. Somehow that made me feel better, knowing he didn't just sketch naked women.

"It's really good," I said, unable to pull my eyes away from the drawing. I thought about what he had said to me the last time I was here, that I should pose nude. At the time, I'd thought it was just some lame come on, now I wasn't so sure.

"Were you serious before?" I asked, "when you asked me about posing nude?" I didn't know why I was asking. Surely I wasn't considering it. Could it even be done? I was seventeen, after all. Wasn't that illegal or something?

"Absolutely," Edward replied. His eyes burned into my skin until I finally tore mine from to the sketch to look at him. His expression was serious and intense. "You'd make a great model, Bella. You should think about it."

"I don't know if I could do that," I said, blushing. "And my mom would kill me if she ever found out."

"She wouldn't have to find out," he replied quickly, maybe too quickly.

I looked back at the sketch, staring at it for a long moment. I wasn't sure what I was looking for exactly, but I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away.

"We could do something small," he said, his voice soft and alluring. "Just a sketch."

I looked at him for a moment, trying to see if he was joking. He wasn't. "What like… right now?" I asked. I felt my heart pound in my chest, a mixture of exhilaration and terror. I'd never gotten much further than making out with a boy. Certainly no one had ever seen me naked. So why was I even considering this?

"We have a little time," he offered.

"I couldn't." I shook my head. Even as I did this though, I found myself truly thinking about it. I was pretty sure Edward could see that too.

"What time does your mother come home, Bella?" Edward asked. I felt myself melt a little at the way he said my name. It was breathy and intimate. Like the way a lover might say it.

"Seven, sometimes later," I replied quietly.

"We could do something from the waist up. Maybe…" he trailed off, turning me to face him. I watched as he placed my arms, laying one across my chest, covering my right breast, the other hand directly covering my left. He gently took my head, tilting my chin down. "Like that?" he asked.

I was covered for the most part. He wouldn't get to see much more than someone might see of me in my bathing suit. I didn't know why, but I felt my lips moving suddenly. "Yes."

"Yes?" he repeated.

I nodded, moving my arms away from me. My heart raced in my chest. I couldn't believe I'd just said yes. I was like Eve, being tempted by the snake.

"We don't have much time," he said, standing up.

I didn't say anything, just turned around and pulled my hair in front of me. He seemed to understand what I wanted and slowly, his hands moved to the zipper on my dress. I felt his fingers gently pull it down to below my waist. I turned back to see that Edward had turned around and was facing the foyer. I quickly let the dress drop and stepped out of it.

Bathing suit, bathing suit, you are in a bathing suit, I chanted to myself. I reached behind me unhooking the bra I was wearing and set it aside with the dress. I arranged my arms the way Edward had had them, and then cleared my throat to indicate that he could turn around. When he did, I half expected his eyes to go wide or him to try and check me out. Instead he moved right into professional painter, situating me on the chair I'd been sitting in for my portrait. I sat with my legs curled up under me and let him position my head again.

When Edward was satisfied, he stepped back and grabbed his sketch pad. I couldn't really see him because of the way I was positioned, head tilted down towards the ground, but I could hear the sound of his pencil moving as he committed this moment to paper.

I wasn't sure how long I was sitting there. A cramp had begun to form in my leg, but I held still until I heard Edward close the sketch pad. "I should get going before your mother gets home." I heard the clock in the dining room chime. It was seven o'clock. Renee would be home any minute.

I tried getting out of the chair, but it was impossible to do without uncovering myself. Edward grabbed my clothes and handed them to me. I covered myself with my dress and extricated myself from my seat.

"I'll see you Saturday then, Bella," he said, giving me a small smile.

"Saturday," I agreed.

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching mine for something. After a long moment, he finally spoke. "You were a very… inspiring model, Bella. Maybe you'll pose for me again?" He left the question hanging there. I wasn't sure what to say. Tomorrow I could wake up and regret ever doing this. Then again maybe not. I certainly didn't regret it right now. In fact, I was a little sad to see him leaving already.

"Maybe," was about as committed as I could get.

"Maybe," he agreed, smiling. "I'll see you later."

I watched as he gathered his things and quietly let himself out. Once I heard the door click closed, I hurried upstairs and got dressed back into my regular clothes. As I checked myself into the mirror for anything that might be off, I paused and stared at my reflection. I tried to see what Edward saw. Why he thought I would make a good nude model. Was it just because I was a girl and he wanted to get me out of my clothes? Did artists just see beauty in everything? Or was there something more?

After a few moments I decided I would never know and quickly brushed out my hair and hurried downstairs to start dinner before Renee came home.

Author's Note: so here's the thing. I've been struggling with Unborn. For whatever reason, the emotion or whatever it was I had to write that has just been zapped away. It didn't help that I just lost an entire chapter of the story today during a save error. So for now I'm not even going to touch that. Sorry for the people who have put it on alerts and were hoping for an update. It's just been really upsetting losing all that work. Anyway—I have a plan for this story, and my attention is focused on it, so I'm going to concentrate on this for now. I hope you enjoy. For those who were looking for an Unborn update, I do apologize.