Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 15

Chapter 15: 'Foreign Feelings, Foreign Memories'

"Your Majesty, my king... please, just once."

Florian's voice rang out, trembling with desperation as he ran after Heinz. The king did not so much as glance in his direction. His long, determined strides carried him forward, his expression cold and impassive.

Trailing a few steps behind, Cashew's worried gaze darted between his master and the unyielding figure of the king. The boy's small hands fidgeted nervously, his pain evident as he struggled to think of a way to help. "Your Highness, maybe we should—"

"Please grant me a private audience," Florian pressed on, his voice cracking. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he refused to stop. He couldn't stop. "The ladies, the princesses—they all got their turn! Please, Your Majesty!"

Heinz gave no sign of hearing him, his stride unbroken. Florian's words hung in the air, unanswered, as if they had never been spoken.

'Why aren't you looking at me?'

Florian's chest tightened as the silence stretched on, suffocating him.

"P-Prince Florian, you must not bother the king," one of the king's aides interjected, his tone strained as he hurried to keep up. "His Majesty has important matters to attend to."

But Florian ignored him entirely.

'Do you dislike me that much?'

"Please, Your Majesty..." Florian's voice faltered, thick with emotion. He stumbled slightly, his legs heavy with the weight of rejection. "I-I just want... I..."

Tears spilled freely down his cheeks now. He couldn't stop them, no matter how much he hated how pathetic it made him feel.

'Why can't you see me? Why am I not enough?'

His cries went unanswered, Heinz's back an unwavering wall of indifference. Florian's heart twisted painfully in his chest, each step forward feeling more and more futile.

"Say something, Your Majesty!" Florian cried, his voice rising in anguish. "Anything! Please... look at me... look at me!"

"What the fuck," Florian mumbled under his breath, his voice barely audible. His heart was still racing, his thoughts tangled in disbelief. 'Was that... Florian's memories?'

What he had just experienced—it was only for a fleeting moment, but it felt vivid, raw, and all too real. It wasn't a stray thought or a wild imagination. No, those weren't his memories.

They were Florian's.

But how? And why now?

Florian frowned, his hand instinctively clutching at his chest as if to steady the strange ache that lingered there. He had seen Heinz earlier today, and yet, nothing like this had happened. There had been no sudden flash of memories, no strange emotions clawing at his heart then.

What had changed?

Before he could make sense of it, a cold, commanding voice sliced through the heavy air like a blade.

"What are you doing here?"

Florian flinched at the sound, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, his gaze lifted to meet the source of the voice—the king.

Heinz stood before him, towering and imposing, his crimson eyes glinting with a sharp, icy intensity that made Florian's blood run cold. The king's expression was unreadable, yet his presence alone felt oppressive, like a storm about to break.

Florian's chest tightened, the lingering ache from the memory twisting into something sharper, more visceral. Fear.

Pure, primal fear coursed through him, freezing him in place.

Heinz's gaze bore into him, heavy and unyielding, as though he could see every thought Florian was trying to hide. Florian's mind screamed at him to move, to say something, to do anything, but his body refused to cooperate.

His breath hitched, the silence stretching unbearably between them.

'Oh, shit.'

"Y-Your Majesty..." Florian stammered, bowing his head deeply, unwilling to meet Heinz's piercing gaze. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Cashew, also bowing, his small frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"I apologize for... bumping into you. I-I was lost in thought—"

"Answer my question," Heinz interrupted, his tone sharp and commanding. "What are you doing here?"

'This isn't me,' Florian realized. These weren't his emotions.

"Speak," Heinz demanded again, his voice a whip cracking through the air.

"Why?"

Florian's mind reeled. 'What the fuck does he mean why? His butler was the one who made me attend!'

'Damn it. I hate this. I fucking hate this.'