Sitting Reading A Book Novels & Stories

I think of my devious plan as I choose a book to read in Deimos's private library. Sitting on the warm couch in front of the window, I begin to shut down my thoughts letting the book devourer me. Further into the book, I became so engrossed that I didn't notice that there was another Alpha in the room sitting opposite to me. Keeping my eyes on the page, my hands reach towards the coffee cup on the side table.

I find her sitting on the floor, hunched over a book. "What are you doing?" I ask setting the plate down and joining her on the floor. "Drawing," she mumbles without looking up from the book. Her tongue sticks out from the side of her mouth, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Richard sucked on his cigar strongly. Smoke after smoke, he exhaled from his nose and mouth. Occasionally his hands would flip through the book he was reading, and his green eyes seemed to read every word arranged in the book seriously. His forehead wrinkled, indicating he was absorbing the storyline in the book. "How long are you going to read that book, Boss?" SB, who sat in front of Richard with his arms crossed on the head of the chair, made his behavior look like a child.

Flipping to the next page of his book, he smiled happily due to the immense joy he deprived in reading a good book. If there's anything he loves more than tranquility and his girlfriend Jessica, then it's reading a book. Without diverting his gaze from the pages, he sipped lightly from the cup of espresso that's in his possession. Jinx, engrossed in reading while sipping coffee, had grown oblivious of his surroundings—including his best friend, Leonard, who's seated across from him.

Calla sat on the edge of her bed, her legs crossed beneath her, a book lying open in her lap. She’d been staring at the same page for what felt like forever, the words swimming in front of her eyes. Normally, reading was her refuge, the one place she could retreat when everything else felt too chaotic, too overwhelming. But not today. Today, her mind wouldn’t let her focus.

I don’t know. At some point, the noise in my head quiets a little. Not gone. Just… softer. I shift slightly in the chair, adjusting the book in my hands. My eyes move over the page again. Reading. Actually reading this time. Not thinking about anything else. Not for a moment. It’s easier like this. Better than sitting in that room. Waiting. Thinking. I turn another page. And keep reading. I read anyway. Hours pass, though I don’t notice. I don’t even know when the sun starts to dip toward the horizon, painting the room with orange streaks through the tall windows.

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.

It didn’t take a while for her orders to be served either. Leaning her back against the couch with a book in her left hand and her right hand holding a cup of coffee she sipped on, she felt perfectly at home once again. The narratives in the book she was reading had started to fill her mind, but not until a person sat across from her seat. When she looked up, her mouth instantly fell open.

They have one train of thought: Indeed, he can’t resist not to see our Young Lady’s charms! Far from their imagination of their feminine Young Lady, the mentioned person was leisurely sitting on her bed while munching some melon seeds and reading the book Jean had given her earlier in the day. Her television was also turned on despite the fact that she wasn’t really paying any attention to it since she was engrossed in reading. “Waah! Handsome ah!” She squealed as she read the book on her hand with a wide smile on her face and laughing maniacally to herself, or so she thought.

Maybe our connection wasn’t meant to be, so no matter how we were brought together we still didn’t end up together. A few moments later, I’d found the books I wanted to buy. I placed them in my arms, then walked over to Kevin, who was sitting on the reading sofa. This bookstore has a tiny reading room with only two reading sofas separated by a small round table. A reading lamp stands beside each sofa. On the table sits a small flowerpot serving as decoration. The reading room floor is carpeted, and next to my sofa are two vending machines.