Woman Reading Book Novels & Stories

I looked at it for a long time. Then the library. Bent over an open book, both hands pressing flat on the page, her weight leaning into the text. The focused intensity of someone who cared about the words, not how she looked reading them. Her hair was tied back in this one, a loose knot, two strands falling forward across her cheek. She hadn't pushed them back. I turned to the third photograph.

Eyes scanning every face I passed. A man reading near the thriller section. Gray hair. Glasses. He didn't look up. Not him. A woman with headphones browsing romance. Younger. Moving her lips to whatever song was playing. Not her. I reached the clock. Pulled a book off the nearest shelf. Didn't even glance at the title. Just opened it somewhere in the middle and stared at the page. The words blurred. My hands wouldn't stop trembling. Movement caught my eye. A woman in a bright red scarf was walking toward me, looking directly at me. Smiling.

Stared at the wall. --- At 1, she walked to the cafe. The bell rang. The woman behind the counter looked up. "You're late." "I finished the book." The woman poured tea. Set it on the counter. "The one you've been reading for weeks?" "The one I've been reading for weeks." "What are you going to do now?" Maya wrapped her hands around the cup. "I don't know." The woman nodded. Picked up a cloth. Started wiping the counter. "That's what I thought."

She took a deep breath, grabbed some more books she thought she’d read at home and walked to the counter. Rhys reentered the bookstore, his gaze instinctively seeking her out until it settled upon her. There she stood, bathed in the soft glow of ambient light filtering through the windows, a representation of grace amidst the chaos. Before her, a towering stack of books wobbled riskily in her arms, straining against the limits of her slender frame. Engaged in conversation with the elderly gentleman behind the reception desk, she seemed utterly captivated by whatever the man was saying. He took slow steps towards the counter standing behind her.

Axel had been dropping off a delivery—Duke's idea to use club members for local deliveries, legitimate income—when a woman emerged from behind a display of romance novels and collided directly with his chest. Books went everywhere. She went backward. He caught her. "Sorry," she said immediately. "I wasn't—I had my head in a book and I just—sorry." "My fault." Axel steadied her, stepped back. She was in her early forties, dark hair streaked with silver she'd clearly decided not to fight, reading glasses pushed up on her head, an armful of novels she was trying to reassemble. "You okay?" "Completely. This happens more than I'd like to admit." She stacked books against her chest. "I have a cond

Mary nodded without lifting her eyes from her book, her brow furrowed in concentration. I turned and began walking down the long aisle, my hands shoved deep into my pockets as I searched for the floor's restroom sign. I hadn't gone very far when I spotted one of the library workers. She was a middle-aged woman, methodically slotting heavy hardcovers back onto the lower shelves. The plastic employee badge hung from a colorful lanyard around her neck, tapping against her vest. "Excuse me," I said quietly as I approached. She paused, a thick book held midway between her hands and the shelf, and turned her head to look up at me.

The servant once caught Amanda asleep on the sofa around two in the morning, and a glass with leftover chocolate milk was lying next to an open tome. "I've read almost five books in two weeks, and they're all screaming over there." He grunted at the rows of other books on the neatly arranged wooden shelves. "Did Oriaga stuff a lot of books in here just for her to leave, huh?" The woman pulled out a chair and placed it in front of the shelf, and she climbed onto the chair because she wanted to pick up the books on the top row. As Amanda tried to choose a book, she found one that was bigger than the others, making the woman's hand pull it away as it was tucked in between the other books.

Despite the Lady’s warning, nothing could have prepared him for the scene in front of him. Amongst piles of books and dust, sat a worn to a frazzle Brianna. Her auburn hair needed severe untangling and her shoulders slacked with the weight of a mountain. Her eyes lacked life, hovering over a single book page not making any sort of progress. As if they had forgotten how to read but kept coping the movement just to avoid staying still.

The head maid panickly said when she saw the beautiful woman coming here. She strolls the library effortlessly, with her confident walk, gorgeous face, and body. Not to mention how she has an on-the-point fashion sense, though. "It's okay, I'm just going to get a book. I'm just really excited to read it because I saw Simoun reading it yesterday." the woman, Aileen, smiled invigoratingly. I froze. Simoun? Why is he excited just because he saw Simoun read the book?

I focused my eyes towards the direction of the noise and sure enough, the small woman walked our frim between two large shelves. "Queen Frost." Lady Waina greeted as she walked over to me. Once she reached the table next to me, she pulled a chair out and sat down. "To what do I owe this visit, your grace?" She asked as she narrowed her cloudy eyes at me. It is obvious that the woman can't see but the way the cloudy orbs traced my covered face made me feel like she was in fact staring at me. "I came here for a book of records." Lady Waina sighed. "Of course, it's always about the books. Which book would you like?" She asked, her feature suddenly shifting to annoyance.