Chapter 23 – Jealousy in Pencil Lines
It started with a guy named Leo.
He worked in lighting. Smelled like coffee and pinewood. Kinda tall, messy hair, wore rings like he was in a band but probably wasn't.
He offered Noa a sandwich during a shoot, and she said thanks.
That was all.
But Reno? Reno saw the entire thing as betrayal.
"You smiled at him," Reno said, floating beside her while she edited a news segment that had nothing to do with her love life.
"So?"
"You *giggled.*"
"I was being polite. He gave me food."
"He gave you *turkey and betrayal.*"
Noa sighed and slammed her headphones on the desk. "Reno, you are not my boyfriend."
"I'm your emotional support anime character and you *made* me flirty. Whose fault is that?"
"You're literally jealous of a guy who breathes oxygen. Do you even *breathe*?"
"I can hold my breath for aesthetic purposes."
"Oh my god."
Reno paced across her tiny editing bay like a cat who just saw another cat. "He's into you."
"He's into carbs."
"You laughed at his joke."
"It wasn't even a joke, it was a pun about lighting gels."
"Exactly. That's the lowest form of comedy and you *still* laughed."
"Are you *seriously* mad right now?"
"I'm not mad, I'm just... betrayed."
"By a sandwich."
"And a vibe!"
---
It wasn't that Noa disliked Leo. He was fine. Polite. Had decent posture.
But when Reno acted like a jealous dog in a human-shaped hologram, it made her realize something she didn't want to admit:
She *liked* that he cared.
It was stupid.
It was ridiculous.
It was the most emotionally deranged thing she had ever felt.
And yet.
There she was, doodling Reno's face on the edge of her meeting notes, drawing his eye shape more defined than ever, his jawline sharper, his expression softer.
And maybe—just maybe—she added a little heart next to it.
She was doomed.
---
Two days later, Leo asked her to lunch.
Nothing big. Just food trucks behind the studio.
Noa said yes because she needed vitamin D and vitamin Don't-Think-About-Reno.
They sat on the curb, eating takoyaki and talking about dumb things like favorite fonts and the color grading on music videos.
It was nice.
Simple.
Quiet.
Until Reno showed up.
Not physically—thank god—but in a much worse way.
He *possessed her phone.*
Literally.
The screen flickered mid-conversation, the brightness maxed out, and a text from "UNKNOWN" popped up that read:
**"You're making a mistake. His energy is beige."**
Noa nearly dropped her phone into her food.
"Everything okay?" Leo asked.
"Yeah. I think my phone's just being dramatic."
She shoved it into her bag and mentally screamed, *RENO WHAT THE HELL.*
Another text:
**"He uses Comic Sans unironically."**
Noa looked at Leo.
Leo looked harmless.
Normal.
Kind.
He laughed when she made dumb jokes and didn't once mention NFTs or Andrew Tate.
But he wasn't Reno.
And that realization hit her harder than the wasabi mayo in her mouth.
---
That night, Noa stormed into her apartment and threw her sketchbook onto the table.
"Reno. Get out here."
Silence.
"Don't play coy. I know you did something."
Reno slowly faded into view on the couch, his expression sheepish.
"I was looking out for you."
"No, you were acting like a jealous teenager with god-level WiFi access."
He blinked. "You think I have god-level WiFi?"
"Reno!"
"Okay! Fine! I got... anxious. I panicked. You're starting to pull away and talk to real people and—"
"Because I *live* in the real world."
"You didn't used to."
That hurt.
More than she wanted to admit.
"Why do you even care?" she whispered.
Reno stood, his voice quiet. "Because you're the first person who ever looked at me and saw more than lines on a page."
She looked at him.
Really looked.
His hair, once rough pencil strokes, now had highlights. His clothes moved when he walked. His eyes held light, not just ink.
He wasn't just a sketch anymore.
He was something else.
Something terrifying.
"Reno... this can't be real."
"It already is."
---
They sat in silence for a long time.
Noa curled her knees to her chest.
Reno sat beside her, careful not to touch.
"I don't know what to do with this," she finally said.
"You don't have to do anything."
"Then why do I feel like I'm choosing between you and... functioning adulthood?"
"Because you are."
They both laughed, but it wasn't funny.
It was tragic.
It was absurd.
It was them.
---
Later that night, Noa opened her sketchbook.
She hesitated.
Then she drew a small speech bubble near Reno's face.
Inside, she wrote: *"Sorry I made you jealous. Sandwich wasn't worth it."*
When she looked up, Reno was leaning on the wall behind her, smirking.
"You forgive me?"
"I'll think about it."
"I can be better, you know."
"No, you can't."
"Fair."
---
Before bed, she caught her reflection in the mirror.
And for the first time, she admitted it—
She liked him.
Whatever *he* was.
She liked how ridiculous he made her life.
She liked the way he existed just outside of logic, just enough to mess up everything safe and boring.
But mostly, she liked that he felt like home.
Even if he was made of graphite and chaos.
---
**TO BE CONTINUED**