Booktok Wall Lean Novels & Stories

I didn’t know there was a staircase by the kitchen as well. He opens the door and lets me in… I walk ahead of him into the room, and I’m blown away. The pictures didn’t do this room justice. The room is both spacious and gorgeous. The walls are crisp white, one of the walls is a bookshelf filled with beauty inspired books. “The owner will be selling this room as is…” he says. I walk up to the bookshelf. “They wouldn’t want this back?” I ask. I run my finger over the Louis Vuitton book…

'Maybe it should. As soon as that thought passes my head, the books from Gideon's collection come to mind. Books I was allowed to read when I cleaned for him and his Luna on occasion. Tucked away in a corner of his bookshelf, in the study, a book with titanium colored covers that seemed out of place, just like this wall. Except, this wall isn't what it seems. For a moment, I just stare at the stone in disbelief. I try to think of something else, anything, but the more I look at it, the more it seems like a sealed door. It curves at the top, though it's obscured by the uneven parts of the mountain, there's an indication that the wall takes the shape of very big double doors.

I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I just planned to pick out a book that I could read while I wait up for Aleksandr to return. The moment I stepped inside I realized how truly beautiful the library was. There were dark mahogany shelves lining every wall, with a few small nooks with chairs where you could sit and read. Along the east wall I noticed a few small breaks for windows that allowed natural light to seep into the room without risk of damaging the books from too much sun exposure.

The liquid inside gleamed, too viscous to be wine. A massive couch rested against the far wall, carved with intertwining shapes that looked floral. Until the flickering light revealed the truth. Skulls, serpents, and curling thorns wound through the design, stretching and turning like they were alive. The cushions gleamed as if slick, absorbing the unnatural glow in a way that made them look wet, freshly stained. As she stepped forward, she stared at the towering shelves that loomed along the walls, crammed with books bound in cracked leather and strange tools. Jars of unknown murky substances swirled, while others stayed still as death. There was no dust, no disorder.

“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.”

There were heavy, dark curtains on the windows, but they were drawn, allowing a sliver of daylight to filter in. I looked around, taking in every detail. A large, mahogany desk stood against one wall, papers neatly stacked on it, alongside a sleek laptop. Bookshelves lined another wall, filled with leather-bound volumes that looked old and expensive. A couple of leather chairs were positioned near the desk, and a small bar cart sat in the corner, stocked with various bottles of liquor.

I half expected some of the books to disintegrate, spewing and scattering pages along the floor. Dark leather furniture sat in the middle of the room, in the center of the looming book shelves. Mason and I plopped down on the dark leather sofa, my eyes trailing the library around us. I felt as though I were sitting in the center of a tornado, a swirl of books surrounding us. Breyona gave us an each a tentative glance and headed over to the far wall. In between book shelves, a large painting hung on the wall. I found myself wanting to laugh at Breyona's parents for their obvious hiding place. The painting was of an older man, no doubt a figure from our History. The frame was a thick and gilde

He turned to me and I grinned. It was exactly what I wanted for my private sanctuary. The deep charcoal walls, heavy velvet curtains that blocked out the sun, and a massive, mahogany desk that sat like an altar in the corner with shelves containing different books I read during my spare time. It was simple with not too much decorations but it also felt expensive even though it was minimal.

I slip inside and shut it behind me. Theodore's room is charming. It's plain compared to some of the rooms I've seen in the palace, but it feels refreshingly modest. If his personality matches his style, it's no wonder Althea likes him. She's never been one for flashy things. He's lightly decorated his space with plants, maps, and books. I immediately notice the tall bookshelves along the far wall and the collection of books. The shelf stands as tall as the ceiling, and almost every one is filled. I walk over, scanning the spines in awe.

I said as Alaia pulled me into another room of the pack house. There was a dark walnut bookcase lining the entire left wall. There was a black sectional with a fur pelt draped over one of the arms, lined with fluffy red and black pillows. A large fireplace and mantle with bookshelves on both sides sit on the right wall. The mantle is littered with picture frames of my family and friends.