Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 477

Chapter 477: ’Something So Mundane.’

"That was... interesting." Hendrix’s voice broke the silence almost immediately after Scarlett and Athena’s departure, his tone carrying an almost playful lilt.

Florian turned to face him, brows slightly raised. "I have to wonder... did you really come here because Athena was here, or because you knew I was here?" His voice was calm, but his eyes searched Hendrix’s face carefully.

Hendrix’s lips curved into a knowing smile as he tilted his head ever so slightly. "I believe you already know the answer to that question."

’Ah. I knew it... but I didn’t expect him to be so damn honest about it.’ Florian sighed quietly, pressing his lips together. "Prince Hendrix, I understand you have a goal, but please... refrain from doing things that others may misunderstand."

"Misunderstand how?" Hendrix asked, his expression unbothered. "Everything I told them was the truth." He leaned in just a fraction, his gaze unwavering. "You truly are breathtaking."

Florian’s chest tightened, a rush of heat creeping up his neck. It didn’t help that the memory—the one from the original Florian’s past—flashed across his mind again, vivid enough to make his pulse jump.

It was maddening.

He tore his gaze away. "Please also refrain from saying such things out loud. We don’t want to get in trouble now, do we?"

"I would know if someone were around," Hendrix assured smoothly. "Don’t worry." His eyes softened just slightly as he glanced toward the rows of flowers bathed in moonlight. "Besides... I wanted to talk with you here. The garden is where we first met. I have a lot of happy memories tied to this place—and now, one of them will be meeting you."

’He’s...’ Florian’s face grew even hotter. ’...flirting with me far too much!’

Words failed him. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to do with the strange twist in his chest, so he latched onto the first escape he could find.

"O-Our talk the other day... we couldn’t finish it," Florian began, his voice awkward. "I—I’m not saying I believe you a hundred percent, but... I am curious about what happened next."

Hendrix fell silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, in the most casual tone imaginable, he said, "What happened next is simple. We both drank... and then we had sex."

Florian’s eyes widened, his head snapping toward him in shock. "P-Prince Hendrix!" he sputtered, slapping a hand over Hendrix’s mouth in a scandalized reflex.

But he could feel the smirk beneath his palm.

’How could he say that with such a straight face?!’

Hendrix chuckled, prying Florian’s hands away gently. "What? You asked what happened—that’s what happened."

Florian already knew. He’d seen it in his dreams. But hearing Hendrix say it out loud, so shamelessly, made his stomach flip in pure embarrassment.

"There’s no shame in it," Hendrix added, his tone dipping into something deeper, almost teasing. "I still remember that night... very vividly."

"You..." Florian was left utterly speechless, his lips parting without any words forming—while Hendrix only laughed harder, clearly enjoying every second of his flustered state.

"I’m only teasing, Florian," Hendrix said softly—so softly it almost sounded like an apology. But Florian wasn’t amused. He could hear the underlying truth in those words, because he knew the original Florian and Hendrix had been more than just acquaintances.

They had slept together.

"I hope you forgive me," Hendrix continued, his eyes lingering on Florian’s face. "It’s just... I never had the chance to enjoy something so mundane."

Florian frowned, tilting his head. "What does that mean?"

"Well, you were my first." Hendrix’s voice dipped, rich with sincerity. "I expected my first time would be beautiful—and it was. But..." His smile faltered, the light in his eyes dimming. "I never would’ve thought that the morning after a night like that would also be the morning we were sentenced to die."

Oh.

Right.

"Did... His Majesty have us executed for sharing a bed together?" Florian asked slowly, though deep down he already knew the answer should have been yes.

That was the story, after all—Heinz’s accusation of treason had been built on the scandal of their intimacy. But even then, Florian had never fully understood why that was worth death.

’Wait... what? What is he saying?’

’If it wasn’t for that... then what the hell was it for?’

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