Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 375

Chapter 375: ’Even More Exhausted.’

"That’s it?"

Heinz sat on the edge of his massive bed, his silhouette softened by the warm lamplight. He had clearly just bathed—his dark hair damp, pushed back from his face. The scent of lavender soap still lingered in the air.

Though he had changed into more comfortable clothes, they were still unmistakably regal—deep wine-colored robes trimmed in gold. The sort of loungewear only a king would casually sleep in.

What unsettled Florian most wasn’t Heinz’s attire—it was his demeanor.

There was no trace of the rage from earlier. No shattered glass humming with lingering magic, no sharp words, no dangerous sparks in his crimson eyes. Heinz was calm again. Controlled. His usual indifferent self.

Florian hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yes... that’s it. I spoke with Lucius to verify, and he said the same. She wasn’t lying. Someone’s threatening her. She hasn’t betrayed you."

Heinz hummed, nonchalantly. "Then you were right to postpone her punishment."

No outrage. No interrogation over why Florian had taken initiative. No heat behind his words.

That alone should’ve been a relief.

’It’s great. This is great. He didn’t get mad. He’s not going to explode.’

But why does that bother him?

Florian stood still, awkward, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

Heinz, the same man who had torn through his own chambers in fury just hours ago, was now acting as though none of it happened. Like Delilah’s betrayal—real or not—hadn’t shaken him.

It felt wrong.

Florian frowned faintly. "Are you... going to tell Lucius and Lancelot the full details now? About the two people threatening me? They’ll need that if you want them to investigate properly. Also... their punishment—are we postponing that too?"

He tried not to sound too hopeful, but the question hung heavier than he intended. He needed the king to say yes. They needed capable eyes on this—Lucius and Lancelot, even with their flaws, were still valuable.

Heinz nodded once. "I’ll summon them later."

Still no change in expression, no rise in tone—just those crimson eyes watching him.

"Oh... That’s great, then. Thank you, Your Majesty." Florian said, trying to smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. The air between them had shifted into something thick and unreadable. It unsettled him.

He could still feel Delilah’s words echoing in his chest.

"That boy... in a lot of ways, he reminded me of Ana."

Florian hadn’t understood it. Because the more he watched Heinz—especially now—it really didn’t make any sense that he was.

Florian cleared his throat. "Well, if that’s all, Your Majesty... I’ll retire to my room."

There was no reason to linger. Not when he felt this unsteady.

He wanted to breathe. To escape the stone weight that was always hanging over him in this castle. He wanted his steaming bath, Cashew’s clumsy affection, maybe a few sweet pastries... and silence. Just one hour of silence.

’That’s all I need. Just an hour to pretend none of this is real.’

But of course, Heinz had other plans.

"Is that really all she said?" the king asked suddenly.

Florian blinked, caught off guard. "Yes?" It came out more like a question than a response.

Heinz narrowed his eyes slightly. "Really? Then why do you look like something else is bothering you?"

Florian froze. Just a moment—but Heinz caught it.

’Of course he noticed. He always does. He just usually doesn’t care.’

He steadied himself. "It’s nothing, Your Majesty. I’m just tired."

He meant it, too. He was tired—down to the marrow of his bones.

Heinz tilted his head. "Did you even sleep last night? I noticed it—despite the makeup. You’ve got bags under your eyes."

Florian flinched at that, his hand instinctively moving toward his face. His body visibly tensing.

Last night.

With everything that had happened today, Florian thought—hoped—he could push it aside. Just focus on the threats, the investigation, Delilah... anything but that.

But how could he forget?

Last night, Heinz had been drunk—again. And just like in the past, he had initiated sexual contact. He touched Florian, kissed him, whispered things into his skin like he meant them. But it wasn’t just a one-time mistake. No, Florian had since learned that this wasn’t the first time. Not in this life, and not in the original Florian’s either.

Heinz had approached him like that before—always when drunk. Always when unguarded. And always forgetting everything by morning.

’How many times has this happened?’ Florian wondered bitterly, his stomach churning.

Earlier, he managed to distract himself with everything going on. But now, here Heinz was, tilting his head and looking at him with mild concern—like nothing had happened. Like his actions hadn’t been burned into Florian’s mind in vivid, humiliating detail.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Heinz asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Florian stiffened. "I had a rough night. Couldn’t sleep," he answered, his voice tight. That was the truth. Just not all of it.

Heinz studied him. "Are you sure that’s all? Perhaps... are you sick? Your voice sounds a bit hoarse."

Florian’s eyes widened in horror. His face instantly turned crimson.

’Of course it’s hoarse, you bastard—I had to shove that ridiculously huge thing down my throat! No shit my voice is gone!’

He groaned internally, pressing his lips into a tight line.

Heinz tilted his head. "And now your face is red."

Florian forced a shaky laugh. "Right... maybe I am sick. I’ll call for a healer or something later."

He clenched his hands into fists, the need to run building in his chest. The memories were starting to sneak back in again—the feeling of fingers inside him when he was under the aphrodisiac... the way Heinz kissed him like he belonged to him. The way Florian responded even when he didn’t want to.

And worst of all—Heinz didn’t remember any of it.

Now, the situation had flipped. Heinz was clueless. Oblivious.

But Florian? He was stuck with it. The knowledge. The shame. The weight of what he couldn’t forget.

Then Heinz’s eyes narrowed, and Florian could feel his entire body tense.

"Come here. I’ll check."

Florian’s eyes widened in panic. "No, no—it’s fine, Your Majesty." He waved his hands frantically. "Really, I’ll be okay."

The thought of Heinz touching him again—even innocently—made his skin crawl.

’Please don’t. Please don’t touch me.’

’SINCE WHEN DID YOU CARE ABOUT NEGLIGENCE?!’ Florian screamed internally, backing away as the king rose from his seat and approached.

He could feel it now—Heinz’s warmth. The steady, radiant heat that made it hard to think. Each step the man took seemed to steal the air from the room. And then he was there, towering above Florian, his presence suffocating.

"Your Majesty, really, you—" Florian tried to say something, anything, but Heinz didn’t give him the chance.

’No, not again. I can’t—’

His voice was low, concerned. Almost... gentle.

His body was still buzzing. He felt exposed. Like Heinz had reached in and stirred something raw and painful inside him—and had no idea what he’d done.

Heinz didn’t know.

’He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t need to.’

Florian nearly slumped in relief, his shoulders sagging as he gave a respectful bow of his head. The tension that had been coiling in his back like a spring began to unravel. He just wanted to be out of the room. Away from him.

’Please, just let me leave without one of your surprise games or commands. I’ve had enough for one day.’

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify