Booktok Couch Novels & Stories

“This library is only accessible to the Alpha, Beta and Gamma families. It’s got the same type of fingerprint scanner as our apartment.” I didn’t want to sit at the desk, so I grabbed a few of the books and sat on the large couch instead. Easton kneeled down to take my shoes off before sitting beside me on the couch. He turned sideways a little and pulled my back into him so that I was laying against him and could position my legs to hold a book. I propped one of the books open on my legs and began to browse through it.

Amanda looked around the cottage. It was devoid of any human presence but it was not, in any way, empty. In the middle of the living room is a low center table made of Maplewood, surrounded by 3 3-seater upholstered couches. Piles of what seemed like glossy paper-bound tomes were on top and at the bottom of the center table. As she saw earlier, the windows were closed but the curtains were drawn to the side to give a view of the garden outside.

And by the far side of the office, right next to the floor to ceiling window, he had his white three-sitter and one-sitter couch with a matching center table that depicts elegance and convenience. The three-sitter white couch has one of these buttons you push to convert the couch into a bed. You could rest while at work, that’s the idea. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with an extensive collection of rare and valuable books, covering a wide range of subjects from finance and economics to art and philosophy. The books reveal his intellectual curiosity and thirst for knowledge. I wonder how long it had taken him to set this up, does he even have the time to read all this his collection of b

I watched them closely, trying not to be jealous. We all decided to relax outside for a bit on the Booker's elegant patio. To refer to the outdoor area where we retreated as a 'patio' seemed to be the understatement of the year. The poolside area boasted a full outdoor kitchen that was nicer than any kitchen I had ever seen in any house. Their lawn furniture consisted of rattan sofas with deep, brightly colored cushions and comfy looking rocking chairs that I would be thrilled to spend the day in, reading and relaxing as long as the Booker's weren't home.

A floating shelf beneath it holds exactly one book, a remote, and what I think is a small sculpture made of obsidian. The couch is a giant L-shape in matte charcoal leather, low to the ground and way too masculine for throw pillows. Of course there are no pillows. Or blankets. Or warmth. It’s kind of couch you sit on only after being invited, and even then, you sit up straight. The coffee table is a black slab of stone, no coasters, no magazines, no half-finished cups of coffee. There’s a fireplace, but it’s more like a design element than a source of comfort. Gas, of course, with sharp glass stones instead of logs. And even the air smells clean. Like cedarwood and expensive control issues.

Leather couches took up most of the room, along with floor-to-ceiling book shelves packed with various books. Nox headed over to a bar built into the wall and inclined his head our way. “You guys want anything?” Knight sauntered over to one of the sofas and plopped down. He folded his arms behind his head, the picture of relaxation. “I’ll take the Woodford Reserve. Does that come with silver shavings or just old-fashioned arsenic?” he quipped with a grin.

"No wonder he insisted on divorce—who could tolerate a betrayal like that?" I raised a hand for silence, my gaze settling on Victoria's ashen face. Pointing to the structural diagram of the sofa on the screen, I said, "The base of this sofa was hollowed out and fitted with a hidden compartment—just large enough to conceal an adult man." My lawyer immediately initiated a video call, the camera switching to my living room. On screen, a worker demonstrated the mechanism. With a press of a concealed latch on the armrest, the base slowly lifted, revealing a storage space over four feet deep.

Say something not embarrassing. “So,” I said suddenly, “this couch is…historical.” He looked at it. “It is?” “Yes. Very old. Probably witnessed events.” Austin smiled. “You’re nervous and i would sleep on the coach if that's what you mean .” “I’m not nervous and no it's fine, you can have the bed and just relax your beautiful face I mean your face” I screamed “let's talk about history” “You’re talking about furniture history.” “I like history.”

The bookstore only charged their customers 15 dollars per hour with a free flow of drinks. Coco came here often to read the newest comics. Even though she could read it online, she still liked the feeling of flipping through papers. Coco brought Lucas to an empty couch and said, “You can go over to the bookshelf to look for something you’d like to read. Would you like to drink anything? I’ll go get it for you.” “Water will be fine.” Coco got Lucas a glass of water and a glass of orange juice for herself. She realized that Lucas was already reading a comic when she returned.

Lucas said quickly. Ethan opened the door to the bedroom and tossed a towel over the footboard. “Yeah, about that…” Lucas followed, his eyes adjusting to the dim room. A queen-sized bed took up most of the space. Pillows were scattered like a war had taken place. A single dresser sat crooked against the wall, and a stack of records leaned drunkenly beside it. “The couch folds weird. Metal bar pokes you in the back like it’s trying to bruise your spine. You won’t last one night on it.”