Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most-Chapter 69: Sugar and Soft Laughter

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Chapter 69: Sugar and Soft Laughter

I look down at the little boy, who has now hidden halfway behind his grandmother’s legs, peeking out with big, curious eyes.

"Granny," I say, my voice warm and open. "Would it be alright if we said hello to your grandson? He’s very charming."

The grandmother looks us over—two well-dressed young men, one clearly flustered and sweet, the other trying his best to look harmless. A soft, understanding smile touches her lips. "If Anio agrees, you may."

Anio. What a sweet name.

The little boy just blinks up at us, shy.

I kneel down, bringing myself to his eye level. "Hello, Anio. Can we be friends? I’ll buy you a cake."

He blinks those huge, innocent eyes.

His grandmother nudges him gently. "Anio, greet the nice young men politely."

The boy peeks out a little more. "H’llo," he whispers, so soft it’s almost lost.

I smile, my heart genuinely melting. "Such a sweet name, Anio. Can you help my friend here choose a delicious cake? He’s having a very hard time deciding."

Anio looks past me at Angel. Something in Angel’s gentle, nervous expression must seem safe, because after a moment’s hesitation, the little boy gives a tiny, slow nod.

I stand up. "Wonderful." I look at Angel and nod toward Anio.

Angel, looking equal parts terrified and enchanted, slowly extends his hand.

Anio reaches out his own tiny one and places it carefully in Angel’s palm.

The sight—Angel’s slender, elegant fingers enveloping the little boy’s pudgy hand—is utterly disarming.

They start walking slowly toward the cake displays, Anio leading Angel with a sudden, serious sense of purpose.

The grandmother watches them go, a fond smile on her face. Then she turns her warm, knowing eyes to me.

"Young man," she says, her voice soft but clear. "What’s your name?"

I offer her my most polite smile. "I’m Zyren Kael."

"Zyren," she repeats, and her smile deepens. "What a sweet name." Her gaze travels past me to where Angel is now crouching, listening intently as Anio points at a cake with utter seriousness.

"And your...?"

I follow her gaze.

"His name is Angel."

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

"Exactly like his name," she murmurs. "He looks like an angel."

My own eyes linger on him. She’s right. It’s not just his face—the gold hair, the gentle eyes. It’s the quiet, patient way he’s listening to a child he just met.

The pure, unguarded kindness radiating from him. He truly is an angel, in looks and in heart.

The granny’s expression shifts to one of mild concern. "Young man, I have a little errand to run. Would you and the sweet angel mind terribly looking after Anio for just thirty minutes? I need to pick up some medicine from the store."

"Of course," I say without hesitation. "No trouble at all, Granny. Thank you for letting us spend time with him. He’s a delight."

She pats my arm gratefully. "You’ve eased an old woman’s burden. I’ll be quick." With a final, trusting glance at Anio, she turns and slips out into the night.

I walk over to Angel and Anio, who are now in deep consultation over the sprinkles cake. Angel is gently squeezing Anio’s pudgy cheek, a soft smile on his lips.

"So, what’s the verdict?" I ask, joining them.

Anio points decisively at the rainbow-sprinkled monstrosity.

"I wa...nt to eat this! And Uncle An...gel agrees with me!"

I chuckle. "Then let’s order it. Or," I add, leaning down conspiratorially, "if you want, we can buy you another one to take home."

His eyes go wide. "You... will?"

I nod solemnly. "Yes, little Anio. I will."

"Then —buy a cake for my kitty! An..d my fri..end Kim!"

I laugh. "Okay, okay. First, eat this one. While you’re eating, you can decide what you want for them." He nods, satisfied, and promptly drags Angel by the hand toward a small table.

I smile, watching them. Such a cute kid. With a CEO’s negotiation skills.

We settle at the table. The vibrant, colorful cake is placed between us. Anio takes a huge, delighted bite, frosting smearing his nose. He looks around, suddenly realizing his grandmother is gone.

"Uncle? Where’s my Gamma?" he asks, his voice small.

"She went to buy some medicine. She’ll be back very soon," I reassure him.

Anio nods and immediately dives back into his cake with single-minded devotion, smearing chocolate across his cheeks and chin like it’s his life’s mission. It’s a glorious mess.

Angel watches him, his face softening into something impossibly warm. His smile isn’t careful or reserved—it’s open, glowing, almost radiant. He reaches for a napkin and gently dabs at the chocolate on Anio’s chin, his movements slow and tender.

"Little baby, eat calmly," Angel murmurs, his voice low and affectionate, like a lullaby meant only for this moment. "Look at your lips, Anio."

I watch them, and without realizing it, my own smile softens.

For a fleeting moment, the world narrows to just the three of us—the sticky table, the half-eaten cake, Angel’s gentle care, Anio’s unquestioning trust. They look like a tiny, perfect family. The way Angel smiles, the ease with which he cares for the child... it hits me all at once.

He loves children. Truly, deeply.

The realization is beautiful—and somehow, it hurts.

We sit there chatting, sharing bites of cake, listening to Anio’s wildly exaggerated stories about his kitty’s heroic adventures. We laugh. Real laughs. The kind that loosen something tight in my chest, pushing away the shadows I carried in with me.

Then—

The soft ting of the bakery doorbell slices through our little bubble.

I look up.

My smile disappears instantly.

The granny walks in, moving slowly—and beside her—

Deniz.

He holds a small paper bag, his posture attentive as he guides her inside. They walk toward our table together.

"Gamma!" Anio squeals, scrambling off his chair and running to her. He wraps his arms around her legs. She laughs warmly, bending to hug him.

I stand up without thinking. The movement feels stiff, unnatural.

Deniz looks down at Anio, a polite, gentle smile appearing on his lips—the kind reserved for strangers and adorable children. "Granny, your grandson is very cute," he says evenly, reaching out to pat Anio’s head once.

Then—

His gaze lifts.

It finds me first.

For one suspended second, everything freezes. The polite smile fades from his face, wiped away by something unreadable. His eyes lock onto mine, sharp and quiet, and the air between us tightens. No words. No sound. Just a collision.

Then, deliberately—

His gaze moves.

Slides past me.

And lands on the person standing beside me.

Angel.