Booktok Reading Chair Novels & Stories

I had to shake my head and push up off the couch before I embarrassed myself even more. Toya stood with a groan. “Is there anything else coming today?” We both looked around the room and stared at the new couch and love seat. Both we a soft grey that was over plush. I knew as soon as I saw them with Sterling, I needed them. I shook my head. “The chair was on back order.” I smiled when I thought of my reading chair. It was a double wide seat with a soft plush cover. That one really made Nix want to purr.

“Does the bookstore provide tables and chairs for visitors? They should prepare it, so customers can use it.” Abby kept walking towards the front while occasionally glancing in another direction to be exactly fifty meters from where she stood, in the corner to the right. There are several empty benches and tables. However, there were several people already sitting there, carrying some books. The expression of a woman who served as CEO of Verz Incorporation became happy because what she was looking for had been found. “I finally got the right spot! I have to get there quickly, so I don't get too full and can't get a seat."

“No? They have comfortable seating in the back, sofas and books for anybody interested.” “Books at a bar?” “Some stories require something more grounded than coffee.” He driven her to the back and it was like something out of a sitcom. Vintage furniture was orchestrated at different points, giving insinuate alcoves and crevices for individuals to talk or read. He coordinated her to a little table by the raise divider. Racks stacked from floor to ceiling, full of battered ancient books. A bow window neglected a little porch with an lit up pond. “This is so charming.” It was as if she’d ventured into a dream. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

There was peace and prosperity until my father ruined everything and died like a dog in the hands of a young conqueror… That drop-dead-gorgeous conqueror in front of me is sitting on an expensively carved mahogany chair with both of his feet raised on top of the table, his boots above the books which made me shake my head in dismay. If only I am not too scared to disturb him on the book he is reading—-wait. I squinted my eyes, trying to read the title scribbled on the book and is that… is that a book of children’s story?! My eyes widened in disbelief. What is he doing reading such a book?

Her book nook, favorite chunky knit blanket, and a good book were calling her name. Claire stepped into her room and just took a deep breath. The light gray walls with the white furniture helped open up the small space and the two floor-to-ceiling windows helped bring in the natural light from outside. She loved the clean and crisp feel of her room, it was relaxing. Her “book nook” was just a spot in front of the windows and a massive gray bean bag chair. She grabbed her latest book obsession, her white chunky knit blanket, and plopped into her spot.

The furnishings were made of a dark, heavy wood, and his desk, the focal point, must have been an antique. Directly before it stood a leather sofa, and the shelves along two of the walls contained floor to ceiling books. Set apart from the desk and sofa was an L arm chair, the leather well worn, with a matching ottoman at its foot. The reading lamp behind the chair was on, and although it was sunny outside, this room remained darker. Masculine. Even the scent here was different, all man.

The first morning he brought tea. Set it on the side table. Sat in the chair that had migrated, across the days of the hospital and the return from the hospital, to the position beside the bed where it had been in the pale room and where it had, through the simple fact of remaining in that position, ceased to be the occasionally-present chair and had become the chair. He had a book. He read.

“I don’t want you to be stressed. I don’t want Ollie feeling pushed aside. I want the baby to come into something… steady.” My expression softened. He made so much sense it was hard to argue against that, so I nodded slowly, my smile forming. “What are you picturing?” I asked. “Light walls,” he said thoughtfully. “Nothing too loud. A reading chair in the corner.” “A reading chair?” I raised a brow. “You?” “For you. On late nights,” he said. My throat tightened. “And maybe a low shelf,” he added. “Something Ollie can reach. So it still feels like his space too.”

As gorgeous as it all was, Elaina found herself going farther, to the end of the room, to a section of books that looked terribly old and for some odd reason appeared the most interesting. There were leather chairs in this part of the room as well, single high-backed ones the color of rich caramel. Reaching out, she let her fingers brush lightly over the tattered spines of a couple books, stopping as if by no control of her own on one. The name TREKAS was printed in letters so worn she could barely see them all. Elaina pulled that one from the shelf without a moment’s hesitation. Before opening it, as if knowing already that this was going to take some time, she’d backed up until she sank in

"One thing at a time. The chairs were enough." I understood that. The pleasure of the right find was diminished by immediately moving to the next thing. "Bookshop," I said. "Bookshop." We walked. The reading room had the same two chairs as always, the same lamp, the same quality of light that made an hour feel longer than it was. She'd brought a different book today, something with a plain cover she'd picked up at the front on the way through. I'd brought the military history I hadn't finished.