Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 164

Chapter 164: ’Taking Responsibility’

’I have to do this.’

Heinz’s gaze remained impassive, but his mind was calculating, turning over every possibility. He had already made his decision—there was no other choice. He exhaled through his nose before turning to Lysander, who was watching him with poorly concealed apprehension.

"I will be the one to help him," Heinz stated evenly.

Lysander stiffened. "Your Majesty, surely you do not mean—"

"I do."

The royal physician looked genuinely unsettled. "Your Majesty, I understand your concern for Prince Florian, but there are others who can—"

Heinz cut him off with a single glance. "Exactly." His voice was calm, deliberate. "I am the king. Florian is part of my harem. It is only correct that I take responsibility."

Lysander opened his mouth as if to protest but quickly shut it. There was nothing he could say against that. Heinz’s word was absolute.

Still, hesitation lingered in the man’s posture. Heinz took a step forward, closing the space between them, his gaze sharpening. "Leave. And make sure no one comes in."

Lysander swallowed hard. "Your Majesty—"

"Do not tell a soul what is about to happen here." Heinz lifted his hand, and magic crackled at his fingertips—raw, tangible power that sent a chill down Lysander’s spine. A warning. A promise.

Lysander paled, his breath hitching. He knew Heinz’s power. Knew that he was not a man who bluffed.

"...Understood," Lysander murmured, bowing his head in submission.

"Good," Heinz said, the threat lingering in the air even as he lowered his hand. "Now, get out."

Lysander didn’t hesitate this time. With one last glance at the writhing figure on the bed, he turned on his heel and left, shutting the door behind him.

Silence settled over the room.

And for the first time, Heinz was alone with Florian.

He didn’t move immediately. He stood at the door, staring at the trembling boy before him. Florian’s body was slick with sweat, his chest rising and falling in uneven pants. Shackles rattled against the bed frame as he shifted, his emerald eyes glazed with delirium.

"...H-Heinz..." Florian whimpered, voice hoarse and needy. "Please... it hurts..."

Heinz exhaled sharply, forcing himself forward.

Never in his life did he think this moment would come.

That he would touch Florian.

The boy he had ignored, the boy who had once loved him desperately, the boy who had sobbed in front of him and sworn he wished he had never loved him at all.

And yet—

Here they were.

Not because of love. Not because of desire.

But because Heinz had no choice.

Right.

He had no choice.

He approached the bedside, his steps slow, deliberate. The air between them was thick—heavy with heat, with desperation, with something unnamed yet undeniable.

Florian’s fever-bright eyes latched onto him the moment he drew near, pupils blown wide, his breath catching in his throat. His expression shifted—pleading, mindless, lost in something far beyond reason.

"Y-You came..." Florian’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it struck Heinz like a physical blow. His lips parted, trembling, his body arching slightly toward him as if drawn by an invisible force. "Please... please touch me, Heinz..."

Heinz’s fingers curled at his sides.

This wasn’t real.

This was the aphrodisiac talking—clouding Florian’s mind, twisting his thoughts, warping his senses until he didn’t know what he was saying. Until he was begging for something he would never ask for otherwise.

And yet—

The way his voice shook, the way his body reacted just from Heinz standing near him, the way he trembled as if the absence of touch was agony in itself—

’How do I even begin?’

"Your Majesty, Heinz... I love you."