Booktok Wall Lean นิยาย & เรื่องราว

It was starting to look like I was emotionally involved in this, maybe too involved to function effectively. Richard pushed the door open and we walked through the doorway. “Den” was nowhere near the appropriate term to describe the room we entered. It was a huge room and the walls were lined with shelves which were filled with books. Lyca sat behind a large mahogany desk. I recognized it as being like one I’d once considered buying. It’s a computer desk designed to look like it isn’t a computer desk. The monitor sits behind a glass screen that forms the top of the desk, and the keyboard is hidden in what would normally be the middle drawer. I really wanted one, but I couldn’t afford it.

I pressed lightly against one of the books. Nothing. I tried another. Still nothing. “Maybe it’s not the books,” Jacob said. “Then what?” He leaned closer, examining the wood itself. “Back panel,” he murmured. I blinked. “What?” “Sometimes compartments aren’t in the books,” he said. “They’re behind them.” My heart started pounding faster. “Help me,” I said. We began pulling books out carefully. One by one. Stacking them on the floor. The shelf slowly emptied. My hands moved faster now.

The dim light from the fireplace in the corner flickered softly, casting warm shadows along the deep gray walls and illuminating the polished wood floors. A seating area was arranged near the fireplace, with a sleek black leather couch and a matching armchair. A few books and papers were scattered on a low coffee table in front of them, giving the space a lived-in feel. Along one wall stood a large oak wardrobe, its doors slightly ajar, revealing neatly folded clothes inside.

The wall I was facing was lined with bookshelves made out of what looked to be walnut. Two winged back chairs the color of browned butter were in front of me across the coffee table. The couch and the chairs were in the same leather, as a matching set. To the left of me was as a flagstone brick fireplace and a tv was mounted over it. Behind me was a picture window, curtains of lace were drawn to let in the light, but minimize what the outside would see. Melody’s must have hung the paintings at one point, the sunflowers now hung on either side of the window.

Two steps that ran the length of the living area lowered whoever walked down them into a carefully laid out entertainment arrangement. Mounted on the left-hand wall was a flat screen television that I almost took for the actual wall with how huge it was. Facing it was a set of neatly spaced recliners along with a long, curved leather couch that looked like a C. Against the right wall were two monstrous bookshelves lined with leather bound novels all meticulously placed in order of volume and edition—my father was many things but a stupid man he was not. I guess I got my love of reading and learning from him; it definitely wasn't my mother—who was more of a trophy wife than anything now that

But the space was completely vacant. The room had plain, dark walls, a massive wooden bookshelf lining the left side, and a large mahogany desk to the right, facing the shelves. At the center of the room was a thick, round, deep blue carpet with a single plush black leather sofa resting on it. But the real beauty of it all was located at the far end with a massive glass wall that created a breathtaking view of the dark skyline.

Surviving. The door to the study is reinforced wood with a steel spine. No crest, no ornament. Just a quiet, expensive kind of strength. Elowen unlocks it with a key that looks ordinary and isn’t. Inside, the room breathes out warmth and lamplight. Leather chairs. A wide desk polished to a dark sheen. Shelves lined with books that aren’t for reading—they’re for reference, for rules, for precedents that can be turned into weapons. A map wall, half concealed behind a sliding panel. A decanter set that costs more than most people’s houses.

One moment we were standing in front of the gate, and the next moment we were in a very large room. Vines dotted with colorful flowers crisscrossed the walls. One wall housed six different bookshelves side by side and filled with books. Along the opposite wall was a beautiful marble fireplace that had a couple of oversized chairs in front of it. My eyes were drawn to a canopy bed that looked to be a California King. That would definitely be big enough to have some serious fucking fun on, pun fucking intended. I walked over to a collage wall that had drawings, paintings, and photographs on it. I recognized Caiathus because of how fucking tall he was. Ziyah had pointed out that his height was

I said, following her in. The layout of their suite was similar to mine, but the way the interior was designed was markedly different. I could tell at a glance that the place was decorated according to Ms. Lee's taste, despite the fact that her son owned the place. I was starting to think that Jester bought it for his mom rather than himself. The walls were a pale yellow, the floor tiled with dark grey, and gauzy bronze curtains covered the glass walls. The sitting room had large, comfy sofas, and the books on the shelves were arranged neatly. They were familiar titles, mostly novels and some poetry, and I thought it was rather brazen of them to display actual books like this. Paper is now c

The wall behind it was off-white and empty. She looked at it for a long time. "It needs something horizontal," she said. "Not one piece. Multiple things on a line." "What things?" She turned to look at me. "The book," she said slowly. "Something from the book." "Thomas's letter," I said. "The opening question." She went still. "Printed and framed," I said. "Simply. On the wall where you write." She looked at the wall. "Did you know what you were leaving behind," she said quietly.