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

I sit calmly, the table before me filled with a luxurious dinner. The restaurant glows under warm lights, crystal chandeliers reflecting softly against polished surfaces. Across from me, 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 names of. Everything placed here just for me.

For a moment, my chest tightens.

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

Meat was something I planned for once a month, something I dreamed 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 time.

And now...

All of this sits in front of me 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 movements. Deniz moves slowly too, as if afraid of doing something wrong. I glance at him, then speak without looking up.

"Deniz."

He straightens immediately. "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, something 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 moment, he speaks again, quieter this time.

"Thank you... very much."

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

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

He blinks, then nods. "Y-Yes—sir..."

I raise my brows, clearly unimpressed.

He freezes, then quickly corrects himself. "I mean—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 time my chest doesn’t feel tight, the first time everything feels... right.

Deniz glances at me, then looks away again.

I catch it.

"Do you want to ask me something?" 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 something this afternoon... when he visited you?"

My smile falters—but only for a heartbeat.

He notices immediately and looks down. "I didn’t mean—I just thought, when I came in earlier—"

I cut him off gently, my voice calm.

"Yes."

His head lifts, eyes widening.

I meet his gaze, steady and honest.

"Yes. Zyke used his pheromones on me."

The table falls silent.

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

And somehow...

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 something 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 me 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 become good brothers again."

Deniz watches me 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 moment. 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."

Something tightens in my chest.

I remember.

In the novel, Deniz’s past is barely written—only fragments. An alpha father who abandoned him. An omega 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 me, surprised—then smiles faintly. "Thank you."

I return the smile. "I’m glad you shared this with me." Then, gently, "Next time you visit him... take me 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 omega father stayed. He loved you. He chose you.

My fingers curl slowly in my lap.

In my world, both my parents left me.

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

Different reasons. Same 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 warmer conversation. That alone makes my lips curve into a small, satisfied smile.

"Deniz," I say quietly.

He turns to me 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 time?"

"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 me. I can feel his gaze linger on me—curious, warm, unguarded.

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

There’s a brief pause. Then his voice carries a hint of excitement 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 immediate, 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.