Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!-Chapter 307: ’To Pull.’

Why?

Why did Heinz pull Florian back?

’Why did I pull him?’ Heinz wondered, his expression unreadable as he stared down at the young man now caught in his grasp. Florian’s wide, startled eyes met his—those impossibly bright green eyes that always seemed to reflect more than they should.

And now they were so close.

Too close.

This was the closest they had been since that day in the village—since that night.

The night Heinz still couldn’t forget, no matter how many duties or distractions he threw at himself.

"Oh, gods—Your Majesty!"

"That’s—that’s so good! Please—please don’t stop!"

Florian’s broken voice from that night echoed in Heinz’s head, uninvited but vivid, as if the memory had imprinted itself deep into his bones. His fingers twitched slightly—only then did he realize something.

The hand he was using to hold Florian now...

It was the same hand he had used to touch him that night.

To coax those trembling gasps out of him. To make Florian’s body shake in ways that had haunted Heinz ever since.

And now—

Now he was here again. Right in front of him. Oblivious. Unaware.

Heinz’s gaze dropped for a second. The scent of Florian’s skin—subtle, clean, but warm like lavender and morning air—slipped past his defenses.

’He smells good.’ Heinz’s brows drew in slightly, almost confused by himself. This was unfamiliar. Foreign. Unplanned.

’Why is my body moving on its own?’

He licked his bottom lip slowly, eyes narrowing just a touch, grip tightening slightly on Florian’s arm. His body seemed intent on betraying him.

And still—Florian just blinked up at him. Naïve. Unaware.

’He doesn’t remember.’

"Y-Your Majesty...?" Florian’s voice was soft. Innocent. Blinking like a startled deer. Still in the dark. Still not remembering.

Still looking at Heinz like he didn’t know what they had done.

Something in Heinz’s chest tightened.

To cover the moment—no, to reroute it—he spoke without thinking.

"Florian, how are you going to style your hair for the summit?"

"...Eh?" Florian’s brow furrowed in confusion, lips parting just slightly. His expression was so bewildered, so genuine—it almost made Heinz laugh.

’Gods, how are you this easy to tease?’

"I asked how you’re planning to style your hair," Heinz said smoothly, letting his voice drop into that practiced calm that always disarmed people. "Your curls are always so unruly..."

As he spoke, he lifted his free hand and gently brushed his fingers through Florian’s soft, light purple curls. The strands slid between his fingers like silk, warm and springy. Heinz swallowed hard.

It was too soft.

Too tempting.

Florian’s face flushed instantly—turning a brilliant shade of red that made Heinz’s smirk twitch.

’Adorable.’

"I—I don’t... I don’t know, Your Majesty," Florian stammered, clearly flustered and trying very hard—and failing—to maintain composure. "I was just... going to leave it be..."

Heinz tilted his head slightly, amused by the obvious panic Florian was trying to suppress.

"You should push it back a little. Like this," he whispered, leaning in, voice low. Then, with careful fingers, he swept Florian’s hair away from his forehead. The gesture was deceptively intimate—his knuckles grazing skin, his palm dangerously close to Florian’s cheek.

And gods—he wanted to tug on it. Just a little. Just to see if Florian would make that sound again.

Florian trembled under his touch.

A subtle shake.

But Heinz noticed.

’Just like that night... when my fingers made him tremble too.’

For the briefest of seconds, Heinz wondered—

’What would happen if I pushed just a little more?’

Then he caught himself.

’No. Stop.’

If he didn’t pull back now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do next.

So he let go of Florian’s arm. His hand left Florian’s hair last—fingers lingering half a second longer than they should’ve.

For a moment, he could have sworn Florian looked... disappointed.

But he ignored that.

"You may go now," Heinz said, taking a full step back. His voice was steady, but both his hands remained open at his sides—as if still unsure whether to hold on or let go. "Go rest. Tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll get tired out from all the socializing."

Florian nodded quickly, his cheeks still flushed. "A-Ah... right. Okay. I’ll... see you tomorrow, Your Majesty," he mumbled, bowing low to hide his face before scurrying out like a startled rabbit.

The door shut behind him.

Silence returned to the room.

And Heinz chuckled—low and to himself.

’He couldn’t have been more obvious.’

But what unsettled Heinz wasn’t Florian’s obviousness.

It was his own.

Heinz stood in the silence of his office, the click of the door long faded into nothingness. But his body hadn’t moved. Not yet.

He slowly lowered his gaze to the hand that had touched Florian’s hair, the same hand that had combed through those impossibly soft curls just moments ago. It still tingled faintly—warm with memory.

’I can’t deny it any further.’

The truth, heavy and pulsing in his chest like a second heartbeat, refused to be ignored now.

He had been avoiding Florian—purposefully limiting their interactions over the past week. Making excuses. Delegating tasks to other attendants. Postponing meetings. All under the pretense of being "busy."

But deep down, Heinz knew.

He had started to like Florian’s presence far too much.

He enjoyed watching him squirm. He enjoyed how easy it was to fluster him with a simple look, a gentle tease, a few well-placed words. He enjoyed the innocence—the unguarded way Florian reacted to everything, as if the world still surprised him.

But more than amusement...

He missed him when he was gone.

Whenever Florian left the room, Heinz found himself lingering in silence, thoughts drifting back to the boy’s flushed expressions, his awkward stutters, his soft voice. And yesterday... and today... Heinz had made no plans to summon him.

And he hadn’t seen him at all.

Until just now.

Until Florian had shown up unannounced—standing outside his office, looking unsure, almost like he didn’t know why he was there himself.

And Heinz... he had pulled him in. Without thinking. Without reason. Without a single logical justification.

He had wanted to know why Florian was acting strange.

He had been curious—maybe concerned—but if he was honest with himself...

He just wanted to see him again.

’I just wanted to keep him here longer.’

And when Florian had tried to leave—

Heinz’s hand had moved on its own.

He’d grabbed him. Pulled him back.

’Like a fool.’

The image of that night—the way Florian had gasped under him, body trembling, lips parted and eyes hazy—flashed behind Heinz’s eyes like a cruel dream. He could still hear him.

Still feel him.

And even earlier... when they rode Azure together. When Florian had been pressed flush against his back, gripping him tightly, laughing softly into his shoulder...

Heinz shivered. Not from cold—but from the weight of realization.

With a quiet curse, he lifted the same hand to his face, fingers brushing his lips as he exhaled shakily. His nose caught the faintest trace of Florian’s scent—still lingering. Sweet. Clean. A hint of lavender and something warmer underneath. Something human.

He closed his eyes, jaw tightening.

"Fuck," Heinz muttered under his breath, voice rough, almost bitter.

There it was. The truth, spoken aloud at last.

He wasn’t just entertained by Florian.

He wasn’t just intrigued.

He was attracted to him. Sexually attracted.