Man Reading A Book の小説・ストーリー

"Can you knock me out?" "You've been unconscious and medicated too many times in recent days. Better not." The man paused, lit the oil lamp, and half-sat up, grabbing a book at random. "I'll read a novel to distract you. Try to bear it." In the simple wooden house, the deep male voice read aloud at an unhurried pace.

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.

I waited, just for fun, then let the silence draw out. Jack squirmed, like he thought I was about to say no. I was about to say yes when my eyes caught on a movement at the corner table by the emergency exit. A man sat there, alone, reading a book with a matte black cover. He was tall even while seated, with sharp cheekbones and hands too elegant for anyone under forty. His hair was dark and perfect. His jacket—expensive, probably custom-tailored—was so out of place in The Morgue it felt like he’d been CGI’d into the scene.

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

Adam glanced back down at the page, a faint smirk returning. “Man handled it though,” he murmured. “Didn’t panic, didn’t fumble it… just stayed in it.” He closed the book halfway again, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “Still… that’s not for everybody,” he added. “Takes a certain kind of mindset to even step into something like that.” He looked at the cover for a second, then back at the pages. “This book really doesn’t miss,” he said under his breath. Then, without hesitation—

He looked at both ends of his side before carefully dodging the same amount of guards guarding there like the larger building. He expertly got into the building through a window that he silently dismantled. Once inside, he shut the window close like he had not even gotten in through it, and with small steps, located the living area of the building. The one he sought was doing the usual of reading a book at his leisure. He was seated in front of a pile of them on the table and he wondered what the old man studies most of the time. “The moon does not shine during the day,” he suddenly announced to the man who did like his presence was not noticed. A typical method of the man.

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.

Copyright©2019 anonymousgirl1206 All copy rights of READING MR. REED belong to the author. There will be no copying or rewriting of this book. All places mentioned in this book are also purely fictional and that goes for the characters as well. Don't be afraid to comment your thoughts and feelings of the book and please vote. I'm really sorry that the first chapter is so short and has so many parts but from the second chapter onwards the length increases and the chapters flow steadily so please keep reading.

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.