Nathaniel Hawthorne The Scarlet Letter Novels & Stories

’’ She whispered through clenched teeth, nudging him repeatedly to keep him at bay. Derek thinned his lips and said nothing. He only married this woman because of his grandparents, and they had agreed not to be actively involved in each other’s lives unless it was absolutely necessary. But Nathaniel was the Hayne family’s jeweler, and he only rose to fame after making a piece for his grandmother. ‘‘Don’t just keep quiet, apologize to Mr. Red.’’ she nudged him again when he stopped talking. “That is not necessary, ma’am!’’ Nathaniel Red almost jumped out of his skin when he heard her.

A million emotions crowd my chest, all of them loud, none of them willing to name themselves. Harriette’s words drift back to me, soft, hopeful and painfully out of place now, but the signature is right there, staring back at me like it has weight, like it has been waiting for me longer than I realize. Nathaniel Blackwell. Confident. Certain. Already done. My eyes drop to the table and I see a pen, just lying there. Casual. Almost deliberate. My fingers move before I fully decide to let them, stretching out slowly, like they’re reaching for something dangerous.

he added. "Some?" Scarlet forced a chuckle. He placed the notebook into her hands deliberately, fingers brushing hers just long enough to send a shiver crawling up her spine. “Would you like to read them for me?” he asked softly. “Your thoughts. Your… fantasies.” Scarlet’s breath left her in a slow, shaking exhale, "I don't think he read my drafted plans...I think I'm safe." The notebook felt heavier in her hands than it ever had before...as if every page weighed a sin, every scribble a confession she’d never meant to say out loud. The corners were bent from how tightly she’d gripped it these past weeks. Her pulse thudded in her ears.

5 seconds and instead, by the time I am walking inside, I am overcome with embarrassment and staring at my shoes as I shuffle in. I hear a voice coughing..fake in a way to catch my eye, so I look up from the floor and am prepared to laugh at myself. A smile graces my lips. I might be young, but it wasn’t like I was going to be executed for eavesdropping. Meeting Nathaniel’s eyes, I see no anger behind them. Instead he’s laughing as he introduces me to the other two in the room that I hadn’t paid any attention to. “....William and Martha Hawthorne” is all I hear from him as he waves to the others.

Nathaniel gave a soft, crooked smile, that same unreadable look in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. " Me again" Maya looked up at him,really looked at him this time. The calm in his eyes, the strength in his presence,it all felt too surreal. “Who... who are you?” she asked, voice shaky but curious. Nathaniel raised an eyebrow slightly, then gave a small, amused smirk. “Oh. My bad,” he said casually, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I’m Nathaniel. Nathaniel Hawthorne.”

Her legs still pace until she collapses onto the edge of her bed, a sigh escaping her lips. Another thing Nathanael hates about Secs, they have a flair for the dramatic-always whining and crying when things don't go their way. Instead of working for something, they attempt to pray it into existence. He's witnessed the power of prayer first hand, but he harbors no sympathy for those that don't fight for what they want. This one seems to be in the latter category. Throwing his arm back over his eyes, he zones out while this new charge of his rummages around her room.

He hoped not. So opening this door on his brain was a must, for retribution and the abandonment from Harry and Anna; unless he understands himself and knows the dangers of the deadly sins to come. Still no reply at first. Nathaniel could feel the individual droplets of his sweat sliding down the dry rugged skin on his forehead, one after the other, skating across the ridge of his brow before dropping onto his cheek. He could almost hear them trickling down, slow, tortuous progress across his tightened, weather-beaten face. Then the voice inside his head came back. "Are you ready to avenge your desertion? Are you ready to hate those whom you love? To show them the error of their ways, even th

“There is no right thing, only to fight or give up.” Nathaniel relished Sarang’s soft hands stroking his hair. The omega cradled his cheek and held his head up. He was ignorant of Nathan’s troubles, but he felt partly responsible for his distress. “The Nathan I know and love prides himself on being a character of integrity. If you have erred, which is human, you never hesitate to overcome your shortcomings. Asides the law, your conscience is the goddess’ moral compass on what is wrong and right.” Sarang rubbed his earlobe gently.

Damon rubbed his eyes. He wanted to believe that. It was stupid, really. If this whole thing with talking was just meant to get him to drop his guard, then it was working. Wasn’t he smarter than this? He tried to pull his anger and hate forward, to shield himself from unfortunate emotions—but he was so tired of being angry. He sighed as he turned toward her. "How many witches are in Scanthin ?” “I only know about one,And that is me Scarlett." Scar murmured, holding herself tightly.Damon advanced on her and she backed into the wall, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Why should I believe you?”

Nathaniel has made it clear he is not after information but something entirely else, and the realization sends a chill down my spine. Unraveled, I sit on the edge of the bed, the papers in my hand feeling heavier with each passing moment. I read through the document again, this time slower, and my heart is pounding. I can see the bolded letters: child, marriage, behavioral conditions. The thought of it makes my stomach churn with disgust and fluttery from Nathaniel.