Young Nathaniel Hawthorne Novels & Stories

I gaped as I could not believe this man. This is the reason why I am afraid of Nathaniel. The moment I met him, I learnt that he is a cruel businessman. He is the eldest brother and Nate was younger than him. I do not look him in the eyes because they always hold madness. He gives me stupid answers like he is from another world and most importantly, I have seen something unpredictable in his eyes for Nate. I do not know what that was, but today when he was caring so much about his brother, I could not help but feel suspicious. I never expected this from him. I mean his care.

Jane said as she walked away . I couldn't help smiling and the fact she took Neil who was already sleeping made it a whole lot easier for me to work. I heard the back door open and when I turned to look I saw Nathaniel walk in, he was short and had a napkin over his shoulders with his hands very oily. From where I sat, I could easily perceive the scent, not bacon. He eyed what I was doing as he passed a couple feet away, I continued not paying attention as if it was the most natural thing to be pounding twigs.

He lived with his grandfather, Joseph Lachlan who was one of the richest men listed by Forbes. Nathaniel never talked much but always stood up against the bullies who targeted weak people. His one menacing look made the bullies question their existence. I sighed in relief when I saw my classroom from my peripheral vision. I almost jumped out of excitement becau- “Wait up Fatso, Where is my assignment, essay or whatever the hell you were supposed to complete? I turned around ready to be grilled. I saw Danika Williams and her minions. “I didn’t do it” I murmured looking down.

It is the silent admission that what he’s done has no defence, and any attempt to build one would insult us both. I stared out the window, and my mind did what it’s been doing all morning — reaching backwards, trying to reconcile the man beside me with every version of him I’ve known. Because the Nathaniel in that living room this morning, confessing to engineering a massacre, is not the Nathaniel I chose. Not the one I found. I was seventeen when I arrived in North America. Seventeen, with my father’s blood still under my fingernails because the flight from Zürich was seven hours, and the airport bathroom soap wasn’t strong enough to get it all out.

"I was born in a small town in Ohio, to parents who didn't know how to love me. I spent my childhood feeling invisible, feeling like I didn't belong. I was angry and scared and I didn't know why." She paused, reading the words back. They were true. They were honest. They were the beginning of something important. Her pen hovered over the page, and then she kept writing, the words flowing like water from a broken dam. Nathaniel found her there at dawn. "You've been up all night," he said, standing in the doorway. His hair was disheveled, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but his voice was warm with concern. "I've been writing." "Writing what?"

I can feel Nathaniel’s observant eyes watching me, sensing a shift in my demeanor. "Last night was unexpected, but I hope you don’t think I took advantage of you.” "No, you dint. I told you I am a big girl. I knew what I was doing." I clarify. Nathaniel hands me some papers before clearing his throat, preparing to divulge more information. "Before you read that, you should know who I am," he begins. "My name is Nathaniel Welsh Coven." He pauses, gauging my reaction, and watches as realization slowly dawns on me.

I had dreamt many times about the time that we would meet once again, but none of those dreams came close to the first encounter we shared earlier today. He had changed...so drastically. Nathaniel was not the same naive little boy that I had remembered from so long ago. He had grown quite a backbone and even had a special gleam in his eyes that was never there before. He was defensive and I could tell that he was still angry with me. I let out a long sigh and went back to grading the essays from my sophomore class. Reading some of these essays I had to question how in the hell some of these kids made it this far in school.

I'm not promising that though 😅. AN: I want you guys thoughts on this question, *sigh*. I'm conflicted, very conflicted on how to describe Nathaniel's character because in my book where I've written the manuscript of this book although, it's a very short story with maybe 28 chapters. I described Nathaniel as a dark lover in my written manuscript but with you guys now, I'm having second thoughts of changing him to cheesy, lovesick guy yet possessive though I've already changed him to that.

Hemlock. "One of my better attempts," Nathaniel said with a touch of melancholy pride in his voice as he noticed Lloyd's eyes turn to look towards it. "Perhaps not up to Botticelli standards, but still..." His best attempt was hidden in his desk. A miniature portrait of a handsome young man with russet hair that fell in silky waves past his shoulders and deep green eyes revealed everything or nothing. His pale skin made them more piercing and beautiful; it was rare for the life at sea, but there had been a reason for it.