Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 387

Chapter 387: ’Can’t Breathe.’

"Well? What’s going on here?" Heinz tilted his head, voice calm—too calm—but those glowing red eyes said otherwise. They glinted dangerously under his long lashes, a clear sign that something was brewing under that cold exterior.

’Shit. He’s mad. He’s definitely mad.’

Florian’s stomach twisted into knots. He knew that glow. That subtle shift in Heinz’s tone—the silk-wrapped steel, the warning before the storm.

But... why? Why was he angry?

Either way, Florian knew better than to let this escalate. Heinz had already been testy all day—probably because of Delilah—and the last thing Florian needed was to be the target of whatever foul mood was simmering beneath that sharp, royal facade.

"Lady Scarlett was... just asking me her question," Florian stammered, straightening his back as much as the maid outfit would allow. He threw a quick glance at Scarlett, silently pleading for backup.

Scarlett, for once, wasn’t smirking. She nodded stiffly, hands folded behind her like a guilty schoolgirl.

"Really?" Heinz’s gaze sharpened. "Then... why was she so close to you?" His crimson eyes flicked to Scarlett, expression cold. "Well... Scarlett?"

"Uhm..."

Florian’s brain scrambled to come up with something. Anything. For obvious reasons, neither of them wanted to admit what their conversation had been about.

Scarlett had practically confessed that Heinz had feelings for Florian... and more dangerously, that she herself had feelings for Athena—a princess, a member of Heinz’s harem.

’And Scarlett is also part of Heinz’s harem... Oh God.’

The memory of how the original Florian was executed just for sleeping with Hendrix came back in full force, sending a shiver down Florian’s spine. ’If Heinz did that for a one-time thing and for someone he allegedly did not care about, what would he do if he knew Scarlett liked Athena.’

Panic clawed at him as his eyes darted around, searching the air itself for an escape—or a convincing lie.

But Heinz... sighed.

"Scarlett." His voice dropped, low and heavy with finality. "Return to your seat. I want to speak with Florian... alone."

Florian froze. Every muscle locked.

Scarlett visibly stiffened too. She glanced at Florian—concern and a clear ’Sorry, you’re on your own now’ look in her eyes—before lowering her head.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Her curtsy was quick, formal. She moved past Heinz, her shoulders rigid as she walked, and Heinz... didn’t spare her a single glance.

His focus was entirely on Florian.

’Why is he so mad?’ Florian’s hands trembled slightly as he gripped the hem of his skirt. ’Does he think I was trying to seduce Scarlett or something? Wearing... this?!’

Admittedly, considering how tight, frilly, and downright scandalous this maid outfit was... and the fact that Scarlett swung the other way... it was possible, but Heinz had drawn entirely the wrong conclusion.

Or... maybe the right one. Florian didn’t even know anymore.

The door shut with a solid click. The finality of it sent a bolt of anxiety straight through Florian’s spine.

He gulped, trying to force a nervous smile. "Y-Your Majesty, it’s really... it’s not what you think," he started, hands raised slightly as if trying to calm a feral beast.

But Heinz didn’t speak.

Instead, he stepped forward.

And forward.

And forward.

Florian instinctively tried to back away—only for the countertop to catch him. No more room. His lower back pressed into the cool marble surface.

’Oh no. Nope. Nope. Nowhere to go.’

He swallowed, hard. "Scarlett was just... just asking me questions! We—we got into a... a heated debate about it! She said I was wrong, I said I was right. That’s all!"

Still no reply.

Just that steady, unnerving gaze. His heavy boots clicked against the floor, echoing in the kitchen like a countdown.

Closer.

’Why isn’t he saying anything?!’

By now, Heinz was so close that Florian could feel his body heat. His scent was familiar—warm, clean, something darkly masculine... but missing the usual sting of alcohol.

Florian’s chest tightened. ’Not now. Not now, brain. Do not think about... about that night. No. NO.’

He felt dizzy. Was it adrenaline? Fear? Or something far worse—far more humiliating?

"I... I..." His voice trembled. "I swear... it’s not—"

And then—

A gloved hand caught his chin.

Florian gasped softly as Heinz tilted his face up, forcing him to look straight into those burning crimson eyes.

"Look at me," Heinz commanded, voice low, husky, laced with something Florian couldn’t decipher—danger? But why did it seem like possession?

Or... desire?

His other hand pressed firmly on the countertop beside Florian’s hip, caging him in.

’WHAT IS HE DOING?!’

Florian’s mind was going haywire—alarms blaring—every nerve screaming in confusion as his heart thudded violently against his ribcage.

Trapped.

"Y-Your Majesty...?" Florian squeaked, far higher-pitched than he would’ve liked. It was instinctive, slipping out before his brain even had the chance to process it.

His hands instinctively pressed behind him against the counter as if it could somehow swallow him whole.

He swallowed, hard. His throat felt tight. His heartbeat was deafening. Heinz was staring at him—no, devouring him with his eyes.

"Florian." Heinz repeated his name softly, as though testing how it felt rolling off his tongue. It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t a reprimand. It was... something else.

Heinz tilted his head slightly, his long lashes casting sharp shadows over his blood-red eyes. "I’m as close to you as Scarlett was earlier." His tone was deceptively casual, but his eyes burned like wildfire.

Then, without warning, his gloved thumb brushed beneath Florian’s chin—slow, deliberate, as if testing how fragile Florian really was. "You said it was nothing... so why are you blushing now? Just like you were back then?"

’Why is my body reacting like this? It’s just his hand. Just his thumb. Stop. Stop it, stupid Florian.’

’I hate this. I hate how sensitive I am to him. I hate... I hate that it’s him.’

The faint scent of sandalwood and something darker—something uniquely Heinz—wrapped around Florian, making his head spin.

"Answer me."

’No. No, don’t give in. Don’t—’

But for some fucking reason.

For some fucking reason.

Then his eyes narrowed slightly, the sharp red deepening. "Teasing you... how?" His voice was silk—silk wrapped around a blade.

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