I am not a Yandere chapter 135

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Again, Seonwoo filled Yeongdeok’s plate, as though he couldn’t trust him to pick out anything himself.

By the time they’d chosen a selection of Baumkuchen, Mont Blanc, and donuts, the once-empty plate was covered with colorful desserts.

Finally, they returned to their seats.

“Enjoy, Cha Yeongdeok.”

“You too.”

The first thing Yeongdeok picked up was a pink macaron.

He took a bite, and it tasted even sweeter than he’d expected.

It wasn’t just his tongue—it felt like the sugar was melting right into his brain.

“It’s so… sweet…”

“Oh, by the way, what have you been up to lately?”

Seonwoo asked, leaning on his hand, his tone casual but curious.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because, isn’t Cha Yeongdeok going to support me?”

What a ridiculous thing to say. Yeongdeok barely kept his face from twisting in annoyance, forcing himself to maintain a neutral expression.

“Since you told me to live however I want, I’m doing as I please. But if something goes wrong, wouldn’t it be on you, Yeongdeok?”

Seonwoo said with shameless boldness.

Yeongdeok’s lips itched to make a retort, but he restrained himself and simply smiled.

“Just kidding. I thought maybe we could go on a trip if you were still feeling down.”

“A trip?”

“There are so many great places to visit. I figured a month of touring and eating good food might help you feel better, Mr. Cha.”

Yeongdeok had no interest in taking a vacation with Baek Seonwoo, nor did he have the time for one.

Holding back his thoughts, he took a bite of the shortcake. Seonwoo commented.

“You got cream on you.”

Seonwoo reached out and brushed at the cream on Yeongdeok’s lips.

But instead of just wiping it away, he brought his thumb, now with cream on it, to his mouth.

Watching him, Yeongdeok abruptly stood.

“You’re being so… vulgar…”

“Ah, your tone—it’s back to normal?”

Seonwoo chuckled, licking the cream off his thumb with a teasing glint in his eye, his gaze fixed entirely on Yeongdeok.

“Sit down. People are staring.”

Hearing this, Yeongdeok’s hand trembled briefly before he sat back down, recalling his promise of revenge against PetitRolang.

“Here, try this yogurt cake, too.”

Seonwoo speared a piece of cake on his fork and held it out to Yeongdeok.

When Yeongdeok declined, Seonwoo pressed the cake to his lips, slowly rubbing it against them.

The creamy texture smeared across his mouth.

“What are you…”

“Still won’t eat? Even like this?”

Seonwoo’s behavior felt like he was testing the limits of Yeongdeok’s patience.

Even though Yeongdeok felt his mind cooling sharply, he accepted the cake Seonwoo offered and took a bite.

He looked up at Seonwoo as if to ask if he was satisfied.

“You’re enjoying that.”

Seonwoo’s gaze lingered on Yeongdeok’s lips, gleaming with the white yogurt cream.

Surrounded by sweet desserts, Seonwoo felt he’d rather devour Yeongdeok than any of the treats in front of them.

He imagined those lips taking him in, feeling his own desire flare at the thought of tasting Yeongdeok’s neck.

He was sure Yeongdeok would be sweeter than any dessert.

Unaware of the desire brewing in Seonwoo, Yeongdeok asked him, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I will,” Seonwoo replied with a grin and finally brought one of the desserts to his lips, almost as if he were settling for it as a substitute for Yeongdeok.

The two of them continued picking new desserts as soon as they emptied a plate.

By the time their tongues were numb and the sweetness was overwhelming, they finally left the dessert buffet.

As they walked down a quiet street, Seonwoo kept reaching into the shopping bag Yeongdeok had given him, looking incredibly pleased as if he had received a rare gift.

“Do you like it?” Yeongdeok asked.

“Of course. It’s from you, after all. And I plan to return the favor,” Seonwoo said with a grin, pulling out two theater tickets from his clutch.

“What’s that?”

“Let’s go see a play. I made a reservation.”

He waved the tickets in the air teasingly.

Earlier, Yeongdeok had resolved to avoid rushing out of the narrative, preferring to offer Seonwoo the one piece of advice he felt mattered: focus on hands.

His failure with Wonjin had taught him the importance of approaching this story with caution.

Watching a play with Seonwoo hadn’t been in Yeongdeok’s plan, but he found himself letting Seonwoo take the lead.

At one point, Seonwoo even reached over and held Yeongdeok’s hand resting on the armrest.

“Here I am, watching a play with you, just like the movie,” Seonwoo said. “What an honor.”

Despite his irritation, Yeongdeok restrained himself, keeping silent, reminding himself of the need to distance himself from Cha Dowon.

As darkness filled the theater, he felt every tiny movement of Seonwoo’s fingers as they held his own, each fidget sending a shock of awareness through him.

When the spotlight shone onstage, a female actor appeared, delivering a monologue.

The storyline that followed was as trite and predictable as any of PetitRolang’s novels, but Seonwoo, still holding Yeongdeok’s hand, seemed enraptured.

He held on, and even when Yeongdeok adjusted his fingers, Seonwoo’s grip only tightened.

As the play reached its climax, Yeongdeok, initially uninterested, found himself unexpectedly drawn into the story, just as Seonwoo was.

“Why are you interfering in my life?” the heroine shouted. “You never think about anyone but yourself!”

Watching her, Yeongdeok was reminded of his own past with Wonjin.

“Isn’t it too one-sided?” Wonjin had once said to him.

“Have you ever considered how it feels to be forced into an introduction without a second thought?”

The heroine’s words, echoing Wonjin’s, stirred a strange weight in Yeongdeok’s chest.

The play finally concluded with the heroine and the lead actor reconciling.

As people started to leave, Yeongdeok remained seated, staring at the stage, unable to shake the lingering emotions.

“Did it leave that much of an impression?” Seonwoo teased.

“Let’s go.”

As they stepped outside, the afternoon light was still bright.

Seonwoo suddenly tugged at Yeongdeok’s arm, leading him toward something he claimed was interesting nearby.

He led him to a staircase designed like piano keys, lighting up and playing notes with each step.

“Come on down, Yeongdeok!” Seonwoo called from the bottom, motioning him over.

Though he found it ridiculous, Yeongdeok carefully stepped down.

Each note lowered with every step he took—do, si, la, sol.

“They’re planning to remove this soon,” Seonwoo said, dashing around the steps to demonstrate, though the notes produced clumsy sounds.

He then came to stand beside Yeongdeok, eyes filled with quiet nostalgia.

“A shame,” Seonwoo said, “I liked this place. But I’m glad I got to bring you here.”

“Seonwoo.”

Hearing his name, Seonwoo felt a jolt, his heart skipping as he swallowed nervously.

“Yes?”

“What kind of life do you want to live?”

For a moment, Seonwoo was struck by how unromantic the question was, but he quickly brushed it off, smiling.

“Who knows? Maybe just what you said—to live as I like.”

As Seonwoo rambled happily, Yeongdeok felt doubts he hadn’t been able to shake since his encounter with Wonjin bubble to the surface again.

He had once told Seonwoo to pursue his desires.

Yet here he was, bent on disrupting Seonwoo’s storyline under the pretense of “improving” it.

But did his vision even account for what Seonwoo wanted?

Yeongdeok suddenly felt like he was trapped—unable to escape the constraints of Cha Dowon’s vision, no matter how much he tried.

“What about you, Yeongdeok? What kind of life do you want to live?”

“Me?” He paused, feeling the question linger like a distant thought.

“Maybe love? Finding someone you like?”

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