Gothic Table Runner Novels & Stories

There was a small round table made with thick wood and expensive marbles, it had two chairs which were opposite each other, with the same design as the table The lights were turned off, and red candles were burning from different angles, giving the whole room an exceptional romantic sensation Red roses were scattered around, it was just…perfect. We sat at the table and settled for dinner, we hadn't even had a quarter of our meal when I felt a cold breeze, which came in through the window, caress my whole body, giving me goosebumps, making my nipples stand erect, and penetrating through my sleeveless mini gown, I was also not in a bra, because my dress didn't need any, and that made the whole

The tailor’s assistant had Loren’s left arm extended at an awkward angle when Willa’s voice cut through the quiet concentration. He sat near the window in Loren’s chamber with a leather folder open across his lap, reading from what appeared to be an endless list of ceremonial requirements. “The floral arrangements for the high table,” he said without looking up. “The steward wants confirmation on white roses versus cream.” “Cream,” Loren said, because someone needed to make a decision and the actual choice didn’t matter. “And can we have wreaths of Greenborne ivy?”

However, that did not take away her Head Warrior status. I could tell that this was certainly Elle’s influence as we stepped inside the venue. Round tables had silver tablecloths littered with beautiful centerpieces. There was a black carpet which led from the French doors, across the room, and up the stage. White, silver, gold, and black silken tapestries twisted throughout the room, defying gravity as they danced along the wind that was not blowing.

However, every time I glance at him, I find his eyes on me with a creepy look that makes my skin crawl. The cozy chamber is illuminated by the gentle glow of a few well-placed candles, prepared for a small, intimate supper. A small, round table is draped in a fine linen cloth embroidered with delicate patterns of vines and flowers. At its center, a single silver candelabrum holds three beeswax candles, their warm light casting a soft, flickering glow across the room. The scent of lavender and chamomile from a nearby vase of fresh flowers adds a calming fragrance to the air.

Though dusty, it's still looks incredible. His choice of furniture and the wallpaper is exquisite. The glass table is neatly placed on a square fluffy red carpet, around it is two set corner seats. Everything is red though, the curtains, the sofas, even the glass table has red flowers embedded on it, is it because he's a demon? Maybe.

she asks, opening her arms and holding them out, inviting us to take a look around the room. Julian and I both direct our eyes around the room again. Taking it all in, I notice the attention to detail. The silk bows on the back of the chairs are a lime green to symbolize the color of the muscular dystrophy ribbon. Camille's has managed to muffle the raucous color with black tablecloths that almost touch the floor and black chair covers. The tables have lime green napkins and a floral arrangement on each table consisting of white, purple, and lime green flowers.

Then they helped Gertie set the table and she showed them how to fold the cloth napkins into bats. “That is so cool!” Alyssa squealed. “You should teach them the flying crane.” Shiloh suggested as she sat the last dish on the table. The second floor was a large open space with occasional support columns. The columns were a black marble look with dark purple trim that matched the other trim on the walls. Large black marble tiles ran across the floor. Mosaic tile rugs helped break up the different spaces. The living area had dark gray walls. Under the metal and glass coffin shaped coffee table was a tile rug of a raven. NEVERMORE was written above it with QUOTH THE RAVEN underneath. The walls

The walls are draped with flowing white curtains, gently swaying in the breeze, lending an air of enchantment to the space. At the center of the room, a table stands as a focal point of elegance. Draped in pristine white linens, it is meticulously adorned with intricate lacework, adding a touch of delicate sophistication. The table is scattered with red rose petals, their velvety softness accentuating the purity of the surroundings. Each place setting is meticulously arranged, with fine porcelain plates and glistening silverware, shimmering under the soft glow of the candlelight.

I walked along their forty-foot-long gothic pool with a stone walkway decorated with lily pads flowing freely back and forth. At the end of the pool stood a tall archway lined with white and blue lights that looked like little flowers. On each side of the pool were tables with white linen layered with light blue silk runners, making it look like waves on the ocean. I picked up the gray napkins on one of the tables that reminded me of Isaiah’s stormy eyes and smiled. I replaced one of the table settings with the blue-gray combo. “Why are you touching those?” A voice asked from behind me.