Novel Couchtisch Novels & Stories

Thread count: maybe 200 if I'm lucky. Everything is different. My broken couch and the desk I held together with duct tape are gone. Instead, there's new furniture everywhere. A gray couch that looks like it belongs in a magazine. A coffee table made of real wood, not particle board. A huge TV mounted on the wall. My brain goes into overdrive, listing everything whether I want it to or not: A west Elm couch. Price: $2,400. Restoration Hardware table. Price: $1,800.

"No wonder she wanted a divorce. Nobody in the world would put up with that." I raised my hand for silence and turned my gaze to Adam, who looked like he might be sick. I pointed to a structural diagram of the couch on the screen. "The base of this couch was hollowed out. A hidden compartment was built into it, just large enough to fit an adult woman." Derek initiated a video call, and the feed switched to a live shot of my living room. On screen, a workman demonstrated the mechanism. One press of a concealed button on the armrest and the base of the couch slid open, revealing a storage space roughly four feet deep.

It is still in the same area. Fairy lights still illuminated the way to our next destination. When we reach the place I am speechless. In front of me there is a big couch bigger than a bed with pillows that is spread out all over it. There is also a side table with various snack. Is that a popcorn machine? There is a projector machine illuminating a white tarp. "Welcome to our outside cinema love." He guided me to sit on the couch, helps me remove my shoes and place a blanket on my lap. He fluff a pillow to put on my back for godsake!

That allows for zero privacy. But that's not the interesting part. The living room was built strangely, the couch is shoved against the wall, and instead of a center normal table, there's a wooden table with straps on each end. And a large metal box next to it. My eyes darted towards the closed balcony, and I dumped my bag onto the couch.

Controllable. That was the point. I turned to the rest of the room. Three couches on the right side. Two long, facing each other. One shorter in the middle, positioned to face both. A low glass table sat between them, bare except for a single orchid in a white pot. The flower was perfect—too perfect. Fake, probably. Or real and replaced daily. Either way, it wasn't there for beauty. It was there for show. The couches were upholstered in a cream-colored fabric that looked soft but felt stiff. The kind of furniture designed to be looked at, not sat in. Guests would perch on the edge, uncomfortable, reminded that they didn't belong here.

Boxes, old books, spare chairs scattered there weren’t something I expected to see. Then my gaze landed on the black leather couch placed at the far end of the store, drawing my exhausted self towards it like a moth to flame. I couldn’t help but go inside to feel the smoothness of the pure comfort. One glance at the couch and I could easily say that it didn’t belong in a storage room. It was too clean, too well-used for that. I wondered aloud. “Why is there a couch in this storage chamber instead of a mini bar?” “That’s not just any couch!”

Lounging sounded like a great idea right about now. The room designated as the lounge had one sagging couch and a couple of folding chairs with empty shipping crates as tables. The couch was currently filled with a large, snoring gray-striped tom. Jinx backed out of the room, wondering if there were vending machines. He could use a hit of caffeine and a snack.

In front of them were six crystal coffee tables, and at the ends of the couches were four crystal end tables, that each had a fancy lamp on top of them. At the end of the room were two arched windows that had duck egg blue drapes, and the windows looked out onto the forest. Sam walked over to a double glass-fronted refrigerator that was stocked full of drinks. Next to that was a bar, he poured out two whiskeys and brought them over to me. He moved his hand towards the couch and then pointed a finger at it. I silently obeyed and took a seat. The couch was much like the bed in my room, super comfy, like I had just sat on a cloud. It molded around my butt, but still held me firmly in place. I r

After all, she would be staying there for quite some time—due to the commotion caused by Josh. In the living room, there was an L-shaped sofa covered in cream-colored fabric, a thick glass coffee table, and a bookshelf filled with a collection of classic literature. When she touched and tried to pick up and browse through some of the books there, she could tell that they were brand new and had never been opened.

Yohan said as he showed him the tablet and how to input the details. Yohan continued, "Here in your right is, of course, a couch. I included it because I can see how much you wanted to lay yourself down on a couch and the television. You also have your coffee machine, but if you want to have it at the cafeteria, then feel free to go there." Ethan roamed his eyes around. The walls are painted black with an accent of silver. The patterns are in silver too, even the chair. The couch is white, too, making it difficult to sit down because it quickly gets dirtied.