Reading Books Aesthetic Novels & Stories

He had a penthouse suite, which I wasn't surprised by. When we got in, he excused himself to go and change and then told me where I could get some wine and where the glasses were. The penthouse was gorgeous. It had some inviting warm colours like velvets and whites and oranges. It was very tastefully curated. Probably done by a designer. Nobody had recognized when we were out because he was wearing a cap and had the hood on most of the time.

Even the carpets and various furniture Hael had were black. ‘Goddess, does he even have a personality?’ Lacey scoffed. ‘There’s no color, no anything in here.’ Across the room, a bookshelf caught my eye. It was stacked top to bottom with books, most of them old and without titles. I slid one from its spot, a thick text with navy blue binding etched in gold. The inside of the book read, ‘Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.’ It wasn’t just the fact that Hael read books that made me pause, but the signed autograph on the inside cover.

I scrunched my nose with the familiar scent of the painted paved archaic walls where the big old portraits were hanged and displayed grandly and the greek Doric columns which exhibit minimalistic beauty in simplicity. Bibliosmia... The wooden smell coming from the old books mixed with the faint aroma of coffee that surrounds this marvelous room entices me every time and bewitches me to be indulged and unravel the implicit bareness of each wonderfully crafted book up until its tiniest details. I returned the book I brought to its rightful own place and picked a new one to read on the same shelf. I traced my fingers to the dusty old letters engraved on the hardbound cover. Mythology...

The fact that she seemed unaware of her beauty was even sexier. I felt her eyes, rise from the book she was reading, as they followed me to the wall where I went to put a couple of things in the way I felt they should be. The arrangement of vinyl records that seemed to serve as part of the interior decor didn't appeal so much to me in that format and it gave me the impression that whoever had put them there hadn't caught sight of the rack near the shelf. Her voice came when I took the first one off the wall, and I'd been partly expecting it.

“I am a function of aesthetic efficiency. Your territory has become a noisy subplot. I am here to quiet it down. To make it… readable.” It gestured with its stylus. From its book, a beam of flat, white light shot out and touched our cottage wall. Where it touched, the texture of the wood—the grain, the knots, the subtle variations in color—smoothed out into a featureless, beige plane. It wasn't erased; it was genericized. This was the worst invasion yet. They weren't trying to destroy or control. They were trying to make us boring. “Over my dead, highly specific body,” I snarled, lightning crackling at my fingertips.

Susan blushed, and Alexei tilted his head, curious. “Weird books? Now I’m interested.” “They’re just fiction. Suspense, mystery… Sometimes romance.” She shrugged modestly. “Romance?” He raised an eyebrow. “The sugary kind or the ones that keep you up all night reading?” She bit her lip, thoughtful. “The ones that make you think. I like imperfect characters. Relationships that are built over time. Real feelings, you know?” Alexei’s smile remained, but his eyes grew more attentive. “You don’t believe much in instant passions?”

One by one she plucked out to read from the back and surely, the front cover plays a huge role in her buying. She would blush at the provocative and alluring drawings of man and woman wrapping round each other. Other then getting addicted to books with sultry scene or stories, she was attracted by the depth of the stories itself that calls out to her. The passion between the two characers and their ability to withstand any obstacles around them as well as promising and loving each other with only the language of love that only they can understand. Ariadne adores such books. It didn't take long for her to roll back to her old habit of reading the book at the corner fo the wall, hidden from ju

Curiosity was eating at her. With an effort, she made herself focus on the other titles. He had books on negotiating, battle tactics, history, agriculture…boring. Didn’t the man read any fiction? There was a book on stained glass that looked mildly interesting, but she kept scanning the shelves, hoping for something more enticing. Her search was rewarded. There, right in the middle of his shelves at eye level, was an entire shelf of books devoted to lovemaking. Wiley’s eyes boggled as she read the titles: An Illustrated Guide to the Sensual Arts. A Woman’s Climax. Emotional Need and the Sensual Virgin. There were dozens of titles.

ASTRA When I was a kid, back when I wasn’t even in high school just yet, the bookstore is my favorite hangout place for so many reasons. I love reading! I love discovering new ideas! It is also my mother’s work place after she quit designing for a high end brand. But most importantly, there’s this particular type of reading material I always love to check out during my free time. A visual book. A magazine. In those pages, there are beautiful tall women wearing elegant clothes. They look mysterious and intimidating. My mother calls them a model. She then mentioned that she use to work with those kind of women before.

What surprised me the most, though, was that the leader of the filthy rogues was holding a book. I tried to ignore it and continued cleaning, but I couldn't help stealing glances to see what kind of book Alexei was reading. When I reached the floor near where he was sitting, I managed to catch a glimpse of the book's cover. It was above average for a normal reader, a book with a touch of poetic view and deep meanings. I couldn't help but smirk and silently mock Alexei Carisi.