Man Reading A Book Novels & Stories

She stood on tiptoe, took that book off the third shelf, and seriously flipped through it. In the book, there is a photo of a man and a woman, the two of them embracing each other sweetly and closely, the blue eyes filled with the love of an extremely outstanding woman, with an extremely beautiful appearance.

I moved quietly toward the sound, peeking around a bookshelf. A figure sat at one of the antique reading tables, illuminated by a single desk lamp. Male, probably early twenties, with pale skin that seemed to almost glow in the dim light. His dark hair fell across his forehead as he bent over an enormous leather-bound book, his long fingers tracing text with careful precision. He wore all black, turtleneck, slacks, boots and something about him seemed... different. Wrong, maybe. Or not wrong exactly, but others. Like he didn't quite belong to this world of fluorescent lights and coffee-stained carpets.

It appeared as if the man had snoozed off to sleep while at work. Yuna didn’t expect to come across a man reading in a weapons and armor shop, especially the store owner. He seemed too lax to be the owner. She lightly knocked on the wooden counter to wake him. The man snorted awake when he heard the loud knocking noises. The book the was on his face fell on his big toe, causing the man to howl in pain. Yuna couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Manuela” I entered the room and saw Flávio sitting in the armchair reading a book. He was wearing light pants and a knit shirt. He looked up and saw me walk right past him and go to the bathroom without saying a word. I closed the door so he couldn't come in after me; I had a plan.

His skin was a road map of wrinkles, his shoulders hunched with age, and he was small and fragile. Over his slender frame hung a plain, dark robe, faded and worn. His head was bent over a large, leather-bound book, with a thin halo of wispy white hair on top. He was completely focused. He was surrounded by a warm, personal glow from a single, flickering oil lamp, which illuminated the fine lines of his aged hands and the faint movements of his lips as he read quietly. It was Elias. The person who keeps secrets. The man who could be the answer to the

no, when she had a turning back again? Stretch out the trembling hand, hold the door handle, deep breath, heavy a force, the door, open. A head up, subconsciously looked toward the floor window in front of the brightly extinguished floor lamp, no surprise, the man, lazily sitting on that calfskin single sofa, holding up a book of the original text, quietly looking at.

Kiara has smelled one of such classic books that has a pretty hardcover and amusing description, igniting a fire in her to finish the entire story in one sitting. Now, two hours later, she was engrossed in the book so much so that her mind failed to register another human joining her at the same table around five minutes ago. The man in his late twenties called her a few times before staring at her enthralled face, which was shining with a spark of curiosity, with astonishment. Forgetting his book in his hand, he was quick to notice her elegance. His eyes followed the locks that were sliding through her forehead till her cheekbone and which she didn’t care to push back her ear.

He looked like a character from a spy novel, and Anne and Tris exchanged a curious glance. "Can I help you?" Tris asked, trying to sound friendly and welcoming. The man smiled, his lips curling up in a sly grin. "I'm looking for a book," he said, his voice low and smooth. "A very special book. It's not on the shelves, I'm told." Anne and Tris exchanged a skeptical glance. What kind of book could this man be looking for? "What's the title of the book?" Tris asked, trying to sound neutral.

After he entered, he took a book from the shelf without sparing her a glance and went to the sofa to read it. It seemed that he had come in to read a book. Sylvia peeked at him twice before withdrawing her gaze to continue watching Isabel and Liam. The study was very quiet. The only occasional sound was from Liam as he taught Isabel how to do her homework. Sylvia placed her arms on the desk and rested her chin on her folded arms to stare at their cute little faces in the comfortable posture. On the sofa, the man who was reading a book raised his eyes and noticed her lounging posture at a glance.

The pleasant scent of old, crisp book pages was calming and relaxing. I had always loved reading, and that made me wonder why a man like Maximo had a well-maintained library in his home. With his dark tattoos, wild eyes, scars and scruffy ways, he definitely didn’t seem to be the type who would have much interest in spending his leisure time reading old books. And yet, he had a rather fine collection of books with a well-maintained library.