Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 304: ’What Are You Doing Here?’

Florian was agitated.

His footsteps echoed harshly against the cold marble floor, sharp and uneven like a frantic heartbeat. Every step sounded too loud in his ears, a harsh reminder of the storm boiling in his chest.

The sting wouldn’t stop.

It had started as a dull ache—manageable, almost forgettable. But now, it pulsed like a blade twisting deeper with every breath. Hot. Burning. Raw. Unrelenting.

It wasn’t his pain.

Not really.

It was the agony that came with wearing this cursed body—a body that still remembered the emotions of its original owner. A boy named Florian who had once loved, once hoped, once shattered—and whose soul still haunted these bones like a ghost chained to its own corpse.

"...Your Highness..."

Cashew’s voice floated behind him, soft and uncertain, trembling with concern. But Florian didn’t stop.

It was fucked.

All of it.

’Why now?’ he thought, eyes stinging as he stared straight ahead, not seeing anything at all. ’Why the hell is it hitting me this hard now?’

He had dealt with this before—the remnants of feelings trying to crawl their way up from someone else’s broken heart. But this? This was unbearable.

As if something inside him was clawing to get out. As if the original Florian had found a way to scream through him.

His ribs ached. His palms were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. His throat burned, filled with a pressure he couldn’t swallow down.

’Ten times worse...’

’A hundred times worse...’

"Your Highness..."

He wanted to scream. To rip open his chest and pull whatever it was out. Anything to stop this feeling.

And what scared him most... was that it wasn’t just the original Florian anymore.

This was him. He wanted to cry. He felt the heat behind his eyes and the trembling in his fingers.

’Is this him? Is he doing this to me?’

’Are you punishing me, Florian?’

That thought rooted him in place, his steps faltering into silence.

’Because I got too close to Heinz? Because I played the part too well? Because now Alexandria’s the one next to him and not you?’

His hands twitched, nails digging into his palms hard enough to sting.

’Then why do I feel like I’m the one being left behind?’

He gasped slightly, chest tightening.

’Why does it feel like it’s mine?’

"Your Highness!"

A sudden tug on his sleeve snapped him out of his spiral. His eyes blinked rapidly as he looked down.

Cashew. Pale, small, worried Cashew. Holding onto him like he might disappear.

"C-Cashew...?" Florian rasped, blinking again. ’Shit. I spaced out again.’

How long had he been walking without seeing?

How the hell was he going to lie his way out of this one?

Cashew would definitely ask what was wrong—why he looked like he was about to fall apart.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Cashew asked, "Why did you bring us here? I thought you said you wanted to go back to your room?"

Florian blinked again, this time slower.

"...What?"

He looked around.

And his heart dropped.

"No..." he whispered. His voice cracked.

How had he not noticed sooner? Had his feet brought him here on purpose?

He was standing before a painfully familiar hall. The shadows of memories clung to the walls like ghosts. The scent of ink and old parchment still lingered faintly in the air.

And the door in front of him—tall, polished, intimidating—was his door.

Heinz’s office.

’No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen.’

Cashew tugged gently at his sleeve. "Your Highness?"

Florian took a step back, his breath hitching.

"We have to leave," he murmured, voice low, desperate. "We have to get out of here. Now."

’Before anyone sees. Before he sees.’

Cashew nodded, ready to follow.

But it was already too late.

The door opened.

’Fuck.’

"Well, I look forward to seeing you again, Your Maje—oh." A familiar voice rang out, lilting and cheerful.

A blonde-haired princess stepped into view, her smile bright, her cheeks lightly flushed.

Alexandria.

"Prince Florian. Cashew." She greets.

Florian felt something twist inside him. A sharp, visceral tug just beneath his ribs.

He forced a smile, lips trembling at the corners. It didn’t reach his eyes. It never did.

Cashew bowed beside him, graceful and silent.

"Lady Alexandria," Florian said evenly, though it took effort to keep his voice from cracking. "What a surprise to see you here."

He watched her carefully. Too carefully. Every movement, every breath. Her cheeks were still pink, her lips slightly parted from laughter. She looked... delighted.

As if something wonderful had happened behind that door. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

It made his stomach turn.

’She looks so happy.’

’What did you say to her, Heinz?’

’What did she say to you?’

He felt the jealousy coiling in his gut like a snake, cold and tight.

No—not his jealousy.

The original Florian’s.

Definitely the original.

"Really?" Alexandria tilted her head. "I’ve been coming here a lot lately, but... what about you? What are you doing here?"

Florian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Her tone was too casual.

Too curious.

And her smile—just a little too wide.

There was a blush dusting her cheeks again.

He had to hold back the glare building behind his eyes.

’Why am I here?’

Even he didn’t know.

"Uh..."

Florian’s mouth hung open slightly, but no words came out. His brain was scrambling, searching for a lie, an excuse, anything that made sense. But nothing stuck. Nothing sounded right.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He hadn’t meant to be here.

But before he could even form a half-decent reply, another figure stepped into view—and Florian’s heart skipped violently, like it had been yanked out of rhythm.

"Florian. You’re finally here."

The voice was smooth. Unreadable. Commanding.

Heinz.

Those piercing red eyes landed on him like they always did—direct and unapologetically intense, like they could see through every layer of him and peel it back without mercy.

Florian’s breath caught in his throat.

"Y-Your Majesty," he managed, stumbling slightly over the title as he bowed, stiff and too formal. The stutter made heat rise to his cheeks.

’Damn it. Why did I stutter?’

"Oh, did you summon him, Your Majesty?" Alexandria chimed in, still standing far too close, her voice sweet with a hint of teasing.

Heinz didn’t look at her.

"Yes," he said flatly.

That was it.

No warmth. No elaboration. No acknowledgment.

But for some reason... that single word was enough.

Florian blinked.

The ache that had been stabbing at his chest—the storm of jealousy, the sickening burn crawling up his spine—was gone.

Just like that.

Vanished.

And that could only mean one thing.

The original Florian was satisfied.

Florian straightened, trying not to let that revelation shake him, but it did. He clenched his fists at his sides.

’So... that was it? He just wanted to know if Heinz would choose me over her?’

He frowned slightly, a flicker of confusion settling between his brows.

’But... did Heinz actually summon me?’

He didn’t remember being called. No letter, no summons, no message. Had he come here of his own accord? Had his legs dragged him unknowingly? Or—

Alexandria, still with that infuriating smile, curtsied. "Then I shall take my leave. I had a wonderful time," she said, voice sugar-sweet. Then she turned to Florian and gave him a wave—friendly, innocent, practiced.

Florian forced himself to smile and wave back, though every muscle in his face screamed in protest.

Inside, something twisted.

Ugly. Bitter.

’Wonderful time, huh? What were you two doing in there?’

He didn’t let the words show on his face, but the annoyance bubbled deep in his gut like bile.

Finally, she turned and left, her heels clicking softly down the hall.

Heinz didn’t even glance at her as she left. Instead, he raised a hand and gestured toward the door. "Come."

It was a single word. Sharp. Direct. It should’ve meant nothing.

But Florian’s heart skipped again—because this time, the heat blooming in his chest didn’t belong to the original Florian.

It was his.

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, light and traitorous.

’Ugh. I hate this. I hate that this makes me feel something.’

He turned to Cashew, who was still standing nearby, wide-eyed and worried.

"You go on ahead," Florian said gently, his voice softening. "I’ll speak with His Majesty. Alright?"

Cashew hesitated. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to protest—but in the end, he just nodded.

"Okay, Your Highness. I’ll wait in your room."

Florian smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately, watching Cashew’s face turn a soft pink. He waited until the boy turned to leave before drawing a slow, steadying breath.

Then he stepped inside the lion’s den.

Heinz’s office was quiet. Immaculate, as always. A rich blend of ink, paper, and faint cologne hung in the air. The thick carpet muffled his steps as he closed the door behind him.

Click.

The sound of it locking felt far louder than it should have.

Heinz sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed casually across his broad chest. His legs were crossed at the ankles, but there was nothing casual about the way he was watching Florian.

That red gaze was cutting.

Unblinking.

"So?" Heinz asked.

His tone wasn’t hostile—just... expectant. Like he was giving Florian the first move in a game he already knew how to win.

"So...?" Florian echoed, his voice thinner than he wanted it to be.

Heinz tilted his head slightly, one brow lifting.

"Why were you outside my office?"