Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 542

'Is he finally going to tell me what the fuck has been going inside his head all this time?' Florian thought, eyeing Heinz's outstretched hand as though it were both an invitation and a trap. His throat tightened. 'Do I really need to hold his hand though and…'

But then—why was Heinz looking at him like that again?

So warmly.

Too warmly.

"For such a beautiful person, you have such low self-esteem."

Monica's voice whispered through his head like an echo, so out of place in this moment that it made his chest tighten. The words clung to him as he slowly raised his hand, hesitating before letting his fingers brush against Heinz's.

'What does low self-esteem have to do with any of this? I'm just being honest. Heinz would never… Heinz wouldn't—'

But his thoughts scattered the instant his gaze met Heinz's. That soft, crimson gaze. The kind that didn't pierce or command, but wrapped around him like velvet.

His heart lurched violently against his ribs, so loud it nearly drowned out the music still drifting faintly from the ballroom.

'The vibe feels different.'

The moment their hands fully connected, Florian shivered. It wasn't the night air brushing against his bare skin that made him tremble—it was something else. Something he couldn't put into words. Something that felt… wrong.

Or maybe too right.

Heinz didn't let him linger. His grip was firm, steady, guiding him across the balcony until they reached the edge.

And then—Florian's breath caught.

His eyes widened as a soft gasp slipped past his lips.

Below them, the front of the palace had transformed. Where once ordinary shrubs and flowers had sprawled, now a tapestry of glowing blooms unfurled, their light shimmering like captured starlight.

It was as though a second sky had been planted beneath their feet—a sea of stars to mirror the one above, the vast expanse blending with the luminous moon that hung over them.

"…Those… are new." Florian's voice came out faint, awed despite himself.

Heinz's fingers tightened gently around his, anchoring him. His tone was calm, but there was a quiet pride in it. "I had the gardeners, with Cashew's help, plant all of these."

Florian's lips parted, but no words came at first. Finally, he managed, his voice shaky, breath shallow: "Why…?"

Heinz turned his head slightly, that faint, unreadable smile curving his lips as he whispered, "It better fits the mood, no?"

'Mood…?'

Florian forced out a laugh, thin and unconvincing. "Since when has Your Majesty been interested in flowers?" he asked, desperate to shatter the tension clawing at his chest.

But, of course, Heinz wasn't going to cooperate.

The king's free hand lifted, slow and deliberate, his fingers brushing against Florian's cheek. The touch was warm, intimate in a way that made Florian's heart lurch.

"Since we're alone right now," Heinz said, his voice low, velvet smooth, "just call me Heinz."

Florian's breath caught. Right. That was… another thing between them now. That line Heinz kept crossing, dragging him further into dangerous territory.

"But—"

"And I am not particularly interested in flowers," Heinz continued, unbothered, "I just thought you would like them."

Florian's pulse roared in his ears. His chest tightened painfully.

'What game is he playing at?'

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