Booktok Bedroom Mga Nobela at Kwento

I move out of the bathroom and start to explore his room. Well, his bedroom just has a King-sized bed, a medium-sized side table attached to it, a huge screen, I guess TV just in front of the bed, almost a wall sized window at the opposite side of the door which has a very beautiful frame and a big shelf full of books at the corner of the window wall. Nothing impressive. But there's one thing that manages to catch my attention. His laptop on the bed! I walk to the bed and sit on it, I take his laptop in my lap. It's open.

But otherwise she could tell that he earned another point of trust with her. She rolled over to the side and propped himself up on one elbow, hearing the shower stop behind one of the bedroom doors. Different from her and her children's rooms, this place was twice the size, enough for that huge four-poster bed, a desk for five people in the corner in front of a large window covered by thick curtains, a set of furniture. They must have cost a fortune and a whole wall covered in books was top to bottom. The combination of wood and light ivory walls made it look just as cozy as it was classic, it was strange but it had a cozy feeling in there.

My bedroom, that is,it was simple, a bed next to the small round window, a wardrobe to my right and a makeshift bookshelf that I Diy’d out of some old furniture that was lying around in the house, the old pink and white floral paper on the walls was old and in some places torn up, the floors were not the vibrant brown like they are in the rest of the house but a dull brown yet clean, it was my little sanctuary and I liked it a lot. I had a routine. I would walk to the shelf and pick up the book I’m currently reading or a book I want to read, then I’d go to my wardrobe and pick out my sleepwear, which is always the same, a large oversized shirt that were left behind by guests, and then I’d ju

As the door opened and the room showed itself, I gasped in shock at the poshness of it. Without stepping a foot inside, I watched with widened eyes at everything the room had. An entire wall was lined with bookshelves, over a hundred books lining those shelves. There was a window in the middle, not a small one but a two-meter long window with beautiful wooden curves centered in the middle. A futon was placed right under the window and was decorated with pink pillows and a blanket that looked like the fur of an animal. Pushed up against the center of the wall was a king-sized bed, four big pillows with two smaller ones in front, and a pink overcoat. It could easily house four people and then

infact, I didn't actually see shit because I was terribly blinded by animal lust and I had just wanted to be fucked. Seven fucking orgasms later, my eyes were clear and I could notice the surroundings around me. As expected...not surprised at all, his bedroom had dark aesthetics, but not as much as his bathroom. And again, his bed was bigger than normal...triple king sized. Five people of the same size as I could sleep on this bed and there would be enough space for extra two. He carefully placed me on the bed as I continued to check his room out. He had a standing shelf by the corner, surprisingly, filled with with books. Hmm, never thought, he read books.

He guided me straight across the corridor, into his bedroom, and locked the heavy door behind us. I stumbled slightly, looking around the space in surprise. Unlike my room, which was vast and lined with bookshelves and a walk-in closet, Bane’s room was significantly smaller, almost Spartan in its lack of luxury. There were no decorative pieces, no dresser, no reading chairs. Just a stark wardrobe, a simple leather couch, and a massive, dark-timbered bed in the center of the room. My eyes lingered on the expanse of the mattress, a sudden, heavy tension settling into the base of my throat.

When we reached the bedroom, Alaric leaned his shoulder carefully against the door to nudge it open, then stepped inside. I reached for the wall panel, pressing the dimmer switch. Warm light slowly flooded the room. Atticus’s bedroom was big. Almost absurdly so for a six-year-old. The walls were painted a muted forest green with intricate crown molding and tall arched windows framed with linen drapes. Near the corner, a floor-to-ceiling built-in shelf housed neat rows of hardbound storybooks and collectible models.

The night everything exploded, I had just stepped out of the shower when Racheal entered my room without knocking-again. "Do you ever-" I started, then stopped. She was wearing one of my shirts. Only my shirt. And the top three buttons were undone. "You were saying?" she asked innocently. "Racheal..." She crossed the room slowly, like she owned the space. Like she owned me. "I can go back to the cold, uncomfortable guest room," she said softly, "or I can stay here, where I don't have nightmares." My jaw clenched. She touched my chest lightly, fingers tracing a slow line downward. "You choose."

Pushing his back off of the doorframe he let me walk into a massive bedroom. A large, four-post, canopy bed was the focal point of the room. A fire was roaring at the other end where comfy leather couch, loveseat, and two lounge chairs squared off each side, giving a look like it was a whole other room. The bookshelves I'd loved so much were lining the walls wherever there wasn't furniture or a doorway. There were spots for new books or pictures or knickknacks could be added to make it feel more like our own place. A painting hung above each door. The one above my closet had my favorite garden at Oxford in it. The fountain head and bench with the tall walls and plants covering it like a secr