Novel & Cerita Man Reading A Book

The red light shone throughout the black-painted room. The light from the burning fireplace made a middle-aged man tighten the blanket around his legs even more. The rocking chair near the fireplace is a place to relax while reading a book. His eyes were busy observing every sentence he read from the book. The thick glasses he wore indicated that his eyesight was not as good as it used to be. Now and then, he would hum and rock his chair back and forth. A large man suddenly entered the room where the middle-aged man was relaxing. The big man whispered right in the ear of the middle-aged man. The middle-aged man then instantly closed his book and got up from his chair. He then grabbed the sti

I later chewed wild onions and covers to mask the scent from Remus. I see the humans take a few books from the massive rows of shelving and sit on the benches with them. I follow suit and take a few striking titles back to the most isolated bench with me. I read as I listen, occasionally peering up and around to see how close this man has advanced. He leaves to the other sides of the storecafter getting about ten feet from me, and he returns smelling of meat and sweet confections.

Reading will help me learn. "Sorry miss, can I just get that book." A guy stands next to me pointing to a book in the corner. I step back giving him space, watching as he picks up the book. Standing he scans it and puts it back. "New here?" He looks at me, as he gets another book and scans it. I'm guessing he works here. "Could say that." I nod and place the book down, I struggle to read the back from boredom so I doubt I will read the book.

After that, I would stroll through Roselle Street, but I always felt lonely, like I was missing something. That was until I entered a bookshop and saw Jonathan reading in the corner. He was surrounded by tall piles of books. He set every book he finished reading on one side before moving on to another. He seemed content in his world of ink and paper and looked like nothing could intrude on his peace. I grew curious and asked the old man who ran the bookshop about him. The old man clicked his tongue and replied, "That young man has come here three days in a row. He sits here from morning until nightfall, and he even skips meals sometimes."

It was about a beautiful young woman who needed a big, strong man to come and save her, so instead I looked at him. His fiery hair fell around his face as he sat reading what was probably the thickest book I had ever seen. His eyes moved across the page as they read, understood, and reformulated the words in his mind. His controlled, finely shaped eyebrows twitched now and then—sometimes drawing together, as if he disagreed with what the book described, other times lifting, as if he was surprised by it.

"Thank you." When I walked into the room, I noticed Mr. Corleone on the couch, well-tailored, read a large, sturdy book. As he continued to turn the pages his monotone expression remained completely impassive. I could not tell what it was about, but he was determined to complete it to the very end. "Sir," I greeted him softly.

He’s just on the wrong side of the fight. They made their way through the halls of the ground floor, then they stopped in front of the black door at the end. The air was warm and quiet as Chief Gregor opened the door and stepped inside. Arth spotted a man of sixties reading a leather-bound book on his desk. He glanced around and found many black shelves filled with old books. “Jade,” Gregor said as he walked towards the desk. When the old man raised his head, his eyebrows jumped in surprise.

He was reading intently, the grey sheet resting lightly over his pectoral muscles, rising and falling with his steady breaths. Wendy didn't rush in. Tightening the towel around her, she leaned against the doorframe and watched for a while. Such a strong arm, one that had set the record for the longest single pass in the university league—a record still unbroken—was only being used to turn the light, thin pages of a book? What a waste. But if you added a pair of gold-rimmed glasses to him like this, making him look aloof and restrained, the atmosphere would be completely different.

I almost ran into the man clumsily when he stopped right in front of a giant enclosed door. "Come in," a voice said from the inner room. The man in black suit, opened the door widely and gestured his hands as if telling me to step in. I stepped in, scanning the giant room with my gaze. Huge shelves stocked with different large books could be seen around the room, while three plush sofas and a gold rimmed center table was right in the middle. Mr Ian was sitting comfortably on one of the plush sofas. He was wearing a grey joggers and his upper body was bare, which revealed enough biceps and muscles, let's not forget the little tuff of hairs on his chest region.

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 turned the page.