Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most Chapter 14: Different Reasons. Same Loneliness

I sit calmly, the table before filled with a luxurious dinner. The restaurant glows under warm lights, crystal chandeliers reflecting softly against polished surfaces. Across from , Deniz sits stiffly, shoulders tense, eyes lowered—still nervous, still careful.

My gaze drifts to the food.

Steaming beef steak. Side dishes I don’t even know the nas of. Everything placed here just for .

For a mont, my chest tightens.

In my real life, dinner was never like this. Every day was work—endless, exhausting work—just to survive.

at was sothing I planned for once a month, sothing I dread of and then crossed out again when rent, tuition, and bills piled higher than hope. Every month, I failed to save enough. Every month, I told myself next ti.

And now...

All of this sits in front of without effort.

I stare at the food, then shake my head gently, pulling myself back to the present. That life is over—for now.

I lift my gaze to Deniz and smile softly.

"Let’s eat."

He looks up, startled, then nods.

I pick up my fork, cutting into the steak with careful movents. Deniz moves slowly too, as if afraid of doing sothing wrong. I glance at him, then speak without looking up.

"Deniz."

He straightens imdiately. "Y-Yes?"

My eyes remain on my plate as I cut another piece. "You don’t need to feel uncomfortable."

I take a bite.

The flavor spreads across my tongue—rich, tender, warm. My lips curve into a genuine smile before I can stop it.

"...Ah. It’s really good."

When I look up again, sothing in his expression has softened. Just a little. He lowers his gaze, cuts a piece for himself, and eats.

"How is it?" I ask.

He nods, a faint smile touching his lips. Whether it’s real or practiced, I don’t know—but it’s there.

"It’s delicious."

I nod too and take another bite.

After a mont, he speaks again, quieter this ti.

"Thank you... very much."

I swallow, smile at him, and shake my head lightly. "We’re friends. You don’t need to thank ."

Then, teasing gently, I add, "Next ti, you treat instead."

He blinks, then nods. "Y-Yes—sir..."

I raise my brows, clearly unimpressed.

He freezes, then quickly corrects himself. "I an—Zyren."

That earns him a smile. "Sounds good. Let’s finish before it gets cold."

The restaurant’s soft music hums in the background. The atmosphere is peaceful—so peaceful it almost feels unreal. Since being reborn into this novel, this is the first ti my chest doesn’t feel tight, the first ti everything feels... right.

Deniz glances at , then looks away again.

I catch it.

"Do you want to ask sothing?" I ask gently.

I sip my water and set the glass down. "We’re friends outside work. We can talk about anything—problems, thoughts, daily life."

He nods slowly. "...Yes. I want to ask—"

He hesitates, then finally says, "Did Mr. Zyke do sothing this afternoon... when he visited you?"

My smile falters—but only for a heartbeat.

He notices imdiately and looks down. "I didn’t an—I just thought, when I ca in earlier—"

I cut him off gently, my voice calm.

"Yes."

His head lifts, eyes widening.

I et his gaze, steady and honest.

"Yes. Zyke used his pheromones on ."

The table falls silent.

Deniz doesn’t speak. He just stares at , shock and worry slowly settling into his eyes.

And sohow...

Despite everything, the dinner still feels warm.

After a long, silent stare, Deniz finally speaks.

"But... why?" His voice is careful, confused. "He’s your big brother. Why would he do sothing like that to you?"

I take another bite, chewing slowly, deliberately—clearly enjoying my dinner despite the heaviness of the topic. After swallowing, I lift my gaze to him.

"You’re right," I say calmly. "He is my brother."

I lean back slightly, settling more comfortably into the conversation. "But we never had a good relationship in the past. He’s angry at for many reasons. That’s why he acted like that."

I pause, then add with quiet confidence, "Still... I’m sure things will get better soon. I’ll fix it. We’ll beco good brothers again."

Deniz watches closely, searching my face for cracks—but finds none. Finally, he smiles, soft and genuine.

"I hope things return to how they were before," he says.

I nod. Then, gently turning the conversation, I ask, "What about you? What’s going on in your life?"

He goes quiet for a mont. Then, without hesitation—without fear—he answers.

"Nothing special," he says at first. But then his voice lowers. "My dad... he’s still in the hospital. The doctors advised canceling the surgery. His condition is too sensitive right now."

Sothing tightens in my chest.

I rember.

In the novel, Deniz’s past is barely written—only fragnts. An alpha father who abandoned him. An oga father who stayed. A man who raised his child alone with nothing but love and exhaustion... until his body finally gave up.

I look at Deniz, my voice softening. "Don’t worry. He’ll recover. He’ll be healthy again."

Deniz looks at , surprised—then smiles faintly. "Thank you."

I return the smile. "I’m glad you shared this with ." Then, gently, "Next ti you visit him... take with you."

He blinks, then nods. "Sure."

He looks down again and continues eating.

I watch him quietly.

Deniz, I think. You know how it feels to be abandoned—but you’re still lucky.

Your oga father stayed. He loved you. He chose you.

My fingers curl slowly in my lap.

In my world, both my parents left .

In Zyren’s world, his parents abandoned him the mont he failed their expectations.

Different reasons. Sa loneliness.

I lift my gaze back to Deniz, watching him eat in silence.

You’re luckier than you know, I think.

At least... you were never left alone.

After dinner, Deniz and I sit in the car, the engine humming softly beneath us. I glance at him. He’s leaning back comfortably now, eyes turned toward the window, watching the streetlights rush past in golden streaks.

He looks different.

Relaxed.

At ease.

The nervous stiffness from earlier is gone—washed away by warm food and an even warr conversation. That alone makes my lips curve into a small, satisfied smile.

"Deniz," I say quietly.

He turns to at once. "Yes?"

"Let’s buy cake."

He blinks, clearly caught off guard. Then, after a second, he nods. "Okay."

I chuckle softly. "Did you like the cake we bought last ti?"

"Yes," he answers without hesitation. "It was really delicious."

I lean back against the seat, smiling. "Yeah. Mine was delicious too. Let’s buy it again."

I close my eyes, letting the gentle motion of the car lull . I can feel his gaze linger on —curious, warm, unguarded.

"What flavor do you prefer today?" I ask lazily.

There’s a brief pause. Then his voice carries a hint of excitent I didn’t expect.

"I know a really good dessert place," he says. "They have more than a hundred cake flavors."

My eyes fly open.

More than hundred flavors...?

My reaction is imdiate, almost embarrassing—eyes bright, expression openly childlike, like I’ve just heard about a secret treasure.

"Let’s go," I say without hesitation.

Deniz smiles.

And nods.