Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 307

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.’

’He couldn’t have been more obvious.’

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

’I can’t deny it any further.’