Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 355

Chapter 355: ’Remember, Remembered.’

"Y-Your Majesty!"

Florian’s eyes lit up the moment he spotted Heinz walking down the corridor alongside Lucius, likely headed to breakfast with the princesses. The sight of him—tall, composed, radiant in his royal attire—made Florian’s heart flutter with hope.

Usually, seeing Heinz going off with them, with the women he shared his table and time with, would fill Florian with that all-too-familiar ache, the bitterness of being left behind.

But not today.

Not after last night.

The night Heinz had brought him to his chambers—had kissed him like he meant it, had held him like he mattered, had whispered words that felt like confessions of love between tangled sheets and breathless gasps.

It had to mean something.

No—it had meant something.

’Heinz loves me. He really does. He finally showed it. Last night proved it.’

A wide smile stretched across Florian’s face as he hurried forward, his steps light, almost giddy with anticipation. Lucius caught sight of him and blinked, visibly confused. The knights flanking Heinz, however, stepped forward immediately, blocking Florian’s path with outstretched arms.

’Huh?’

"Your Highness," one of the knights said with a strained tone, "please... not again today."

But Florian didn’t stop smiling.

"No... No, today’s different!" he beamed, glancing past the armored shoulders. "Heinz is going to tell you to let me through."

He turned his eyes to Heinz, ready to bask in his gaze, expecting warmth. Affection. Recognition.

But...

Heinz wasn’t looking at him.

Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

Florian’s smile faltered. His chest tightened.

’Why... isn’t he looking at me? Last night... he couldn’t stop looking at me. He kissed me like I was everything. He held me like I was his world. Why—’

"Heinz..." Florian’s voice quivered as he took a hesitant step forward, eyes searching desperately for some sign of yesterday. "Heinz, why aren’t you looking at me again? Did I... did I do something wrong?"

Lucius’s brows furrowed in concern as he looked between the two, clearly just as baffled.

Heinz finally sighed, rubbing his temples.

"He’s talking even more nonsense," Heinz muttered, his tone cold, dismissive. "Get him out of here. I already have a massive headache."

And just like that, Florian could hear it—the sharp, shattering crack of his heart breaking.

Tears welled in his eyes before he even realized it. Hot, stinging, and unstoppable.

’No... no, this isn’t happening. I know it happened. I remember it—I felt it.’

Images from the night before flooded him in agonizing fragments—Heinz’s mouth on his skin, the whispered words, the gentle touches, the look in his eyes that had seemed so real. So true.

’That wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been.’

"No!" Florian cried, his voice trembling. "Heinz, listen to me! You... you love me! And I—I love you too!"

The corridor went still, the air tense with confusion and discomfort. All eyes were on Florian now—wide, uncertain, some pitying. Some disbelieving.

The knights didn’t hesitate. Strong hands gripped his arms as they began to drag him away.

"Wait! Please! Heinz, please, listen to me!" he pleaded, tears now streaming freely down his cheeks as he struggled against them, his voice raw and desperate. "Please!"

But Heinz... just walked away.

Not a glance. Not a word. Just footsteps echoing as he disappeared further down the corridor.

Florian fought harder, legs kicking, arms wrenching against the hold.

"Heinz!!"

Florian’s eyes shot open.

For a moment, he lay still, disoriented and sluggish, until a dull ache pulsed through his body. He groaned softly, dragging a hand across his face, muscles sore in places he hadn’t even known could hurt. He shifted—

—and promptly rolled off the edge of the couch.

Thud.

"Fuck," he hissed as his back hit the floor with a jolt. The impact sent a ripple of pain up his spine, and Florian winced, clutching his side. His body ached. His voice came out hoarse, throat dry and raw. It stung even to speak.

But then—

A flash.

A flicker.

Memories.

Lips on his neck. Hands holding onto his hair tightly.

His eyes widened in horror. He bolted upright.

’Holy shit.’

’Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit—’

His heart pounded in his chest like it was trying to escape. No. No way. That hadn’t actually happened. It couldn’t have happened. That had to be—

"So, you’re awake."

Florian froze.

His blood ran cold.

Slowly, stiffly, like a puppet with broken strings, he turned his head toward the bed.

There lay Heinz—half-covered by sheets, black hair slightly tousled, his usual perfect composure still somehow intact. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest as he looked down at Florian.

Wide awake.

Watching him.

’Oh my God.’

’Oh my fucking God, he’s awake—how long has he been awake?!’

He hadn’t dared sleep too deeply. Cashew could’ve walked in. Lucius. Anyone.

He didn’t want anyone to know. Not yet. Not ever if he could help it.

’I thought I’d have time to process. Time to freak out. Time to breathe!’

"Y-Your Majesty..." Florian croaked, voice cracking again as he scrambled to his feet. He kept his eyes on the floor, shoulders hunched like a scolded child. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—look at Heinz directly.

"Good boy."

’AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA STOP STOP STOP—NOPE NOPE NO!’

He didn’t know what was worse—the memory of last night, or the possibility that Heinz might actually want to talk about it.

Was he going to kill him?

’Am I about to be executed? Is that a crime here? He was the one who asked me to do those things...’

Florian nearly vibrated out of his skin from anxiety. Last night, Heinz had been like a completely different person. More tender. More human. Was that just the alcohol? Was it something deeper?

Florian almost wanted someone to burst through the door right now and shoot him. Just end him. Let his soul be catapulted into another world—any world that wasn’t a tragic BL fantasy hellscape where he was a half-gay, half-self-aware main character with the worst luck known to man.

Preferably a world with air conditioning. And boundaries. And no emotionally confusing hot kings.

Wait.

’He... He doesn’t remember?’

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