Chapter 18 – The Sketchbook Seduction Plan

Narrator: Noa has a quiet night for once. Reno, surprisingly mellow, decides to "help her relax" with a totally normal idea: turning the sketchbook into a full-blown romantic simulator. He reenacts every fantasy Noa never admitted out loud.

From candlelit rooftop dinners to a steamy hot spring scenario, things go from oddly sweet to hilariously chaotic. Noa struggles to maintain composure as Reno switches roles from prince charming to shirtless lifeguard to moody bad boy with a motorcycle. But then, one sketch gets... deleted. And what replaces it isn't something Noa drew at all.

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"What if we made tonight about you?" Reno asked, twirling a paintbrush like a magician with a wand.

Noa looked up from her tea. "That sounds dangerously vague."

Reno, wearing nothing but joggers and unearned confidence, leaned over the sketchbook. "I want to try something new. You sketch something. I make it real. Like a wish-granting dating simulator."

"You mean like a romantic RPG?"

"Exactly. Except I'm every NPC and the final boss."

She hesitated. This had disaster written all over it.

"Fine. One scene. Then we're done."

She opened to a blank page and sketched quickly: a rooftop, candlelight, skyline.

Seconds later, the room disappeared.

Suddenly, they were on a rooftop bathed in soft light. Wind gently played with Noa's hair. Reno appeared, tuxedo-clad, holding a glass of wine.

"Madam," he said in a scandalously deep voice. "Your reservation awaits."

Noa blinked. "Okay, not bad."

Reno smirked. "Round two?"

The page flipped.

Hot spring. Steam. Wooden buckets. Reno in a towel. Water glistened off his skin like a K-drama poster.

"You did this on purpose."

She turned red. "Shut up."

"You drew the towel low."

"I didn't think it would render!"

He winked. "Oh, it rendered."

Page flip.

Beach. Lifeguard tower. Reno in red swim shorts and sunglasses.

"Do I hear 'CPR practice'?" he asked.

Noa hurled a flip-flop at his face.

He caught it midair. "You're welcome."

Page flip.

Now he had a leather jacket and a motorcycle. Rain poured. He smoldered.

"I brood for your sins," he said.

"You need therapy," she replied.

He revved the engine. Thunder cracked.

She laughed so hard she nearly dropped the sketchbook.

Then—the lights dimmed.

The page flipped itself.

Noa froze.

This one... she hadn't drawn.

It was a bedroom. Her bedroom. But different. Dimmer. Warmer. And Reno—he looked almost real. Not sketchy, not magical. Real. Breathing.

He stepped forward, slowly. Voice low. "Did you draw this?"

She shook her head.

He touched the sketchbook. It vibrated slightly. "Then who did?"

The lights flickered. The scene pixelated around the edges.

Noa reached for the page—but it snapped shut on its own.

Back to her room.

Sketchbook closed.

Reno stared at it. "Okay. That was new."

"You think someone else is... drawing in it?"

He looked serious. "Or maybe it's evolving. Responding. Learning."

She shuddered. "That's creepy."

He grinned. "So, same as me."

She grabbed the book and tucked it away. "New rule. No more surprise scenes."

Reno flopped on the couch. "Fine. But I demand a beach sequel."

Noa rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Only if I get to draw you as a pineapple next time."

He saluted. "Challenge accepted."

And outside, on the very last page, something faint began to sketch itself.

A shadow.

A hand.

A smile.

But not Reno's.