Man Reading A Book Novels & Stories

I followed the sound, my steps careful, like I was walking through something fragile. Evan stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, hair still rumpled from sleep. He looked older in the morning light. Less composed. More human. “You didn’t have to make coffee,” I said softly. He turned. “I needed something to do with my hands.” I nodded. I understood that feeling too well. We stood there for a moment, the silence thick but not hostile. “I read the last pages,” I said finally. He stiffened. “I didn’t know if you would,” he replied.

The scent of old paper, cedarwood, and freshly brewed tea filled the room. For the first time that evening... She stopped shivering. Some row upon rows of weathered books stretched toward the ceiling. Some looked older than the building itself. Behind the counter sat an elderly man with silver hair tied neatly behind his head. A pair of round spectacles rested low on his nose as he quietly read a thick hardcover book. He looked up. His kind eyes settled on the drenched girl standing by the entrance. He closed the book without a word. "You'll catch pneumonia if you keep making friends with storms."

Carter asks with a smile on his lips, and I shake my head, fighting the smile that is on my lips. “Nothing. Can I use these?” I ask as I point to the books and he nods his head with a smile as he begins to type away on his laptop. I grab a few books and take them to the desk when the door opens, and a man walks in. He is tall, athletic with blonde hair and brown eyes. He has glasses on and is handsome. Not otherworldly like the shifters or the gods, he is decent looking for a human. I look back down and open the book.

His head is bent over a book, his brows furrowed in total concentration. I smile at the sight of him. I’ll be honest. I am pleasantly surprised to know that this new guy, with the piercings and the shredded black T-shirts is a core nerd. He doesn’t look the part but it’s evident in the way he speaks— this is a guy that reads and takes his grades seriously. He might not be a jock but I have to admit that Rowan is cool. I walk up to him and set my bag on the desk. He’s so immersed in his book, he doesn’t even hear me come up to him. I’m curious to know what he’s reading. The book has one of those blank covers without a title.

He rubbed his eyes as he felt sadness in his chest as if pinching while reading this book. He noticed Iyak laughing at the book he was reading, his attention was drawn to this Author and he put the book down first. He picked up his cellphone and searched the back of this book, trying to look at its face. Only his face could be seen, "Looks like I've seen him?" He struggles to think but no information enters. "Ahh there are a lot of mustaches in the world so maybe he just looks like him." He promised while talking on his cellphone.

With bloodshot eyes, the man glanced at the other book in his hand and repeated such motions for a couple of minutes, multi-tasking. Due to focusing on the things before him, he did not notice the sound of the door opening and the footsteps approaching his direction. “Naster” a voice resounded which caught the attention of the busy man. He raised his head and immediately gravel in his feet as he rushed to bow his head towards the man who just entered his haven. “A-alpha” the man stuttered as he nervously bowed his head. The man he called alpha then pursed his lips in annoyance and took a side glance towards the pile of books, it appears that the man still finds the joy of reading books, the

A man was seated peacefully in his wooden boat, enjoying the serenity of the sea while engrossed in a captivating book. As he turned a page, he suddenly heard a peculiar noise behind him, causing him to snap his head in that direction. Surprised, he saw no one there.

"It's not here." "Neither is it here." Lu said, handing the book to her. "Where'd you find it?" She researched the book, hoping to see anything connected to Payne. "Just there." Lu pointed to the far end of the room. Melinda moved quickly. "Hello ladies." A man in cowboy boots and hats appeared at the door. He removed the fat tobacco from his thin lips as he watched the ladies reach for their behind to claim whatever was kept there. "Americans." He chuckled. His lips spread into a fine thin line.

Yet within the depths of her eyes was a light of mischievousness that shone briefly before disappearing. Of course she knew why Mane was hesitating. Mane had a healthy reading habit. Every day he tasked himself to read a few books. He read everything: history, social and biological sciences, and studied several different arts. To make sure that he was as unbiased in his reading options as possible, he didn’t pick the books consciously. He picked different books from different sections of the library without necessarily knowing what he had picked. He only screened each book after returning to his room. And Sunflower had come to known this.

Their black hair is short with a fade, they wear rimless glasses with large circular lenses and a shirt in a different shade blue every day. But in the opposite corner from me is a man I’ve never seen before. I’d like to assume he’s a tourist, but he looks comfortable. Most tourists look somewhat confused and like they’re in a rush to get to their next destination. But not this man, he’s lounged in the wide green settee that matches his sweater with his small espresso cup and saucer on the table next to him and a book in his hand. “How pretentious,” I whisper to myself. “El! Coffee for ya, love!” Lucy announces.