Chapter 489: ’Just For A Minute.’
Florian stood frozen, his breath caught in his throat as his eyes fixed on the sight before him.
The original Florian sat astride Hendrix, their bodies moving in a rhythm that made the air thick with heat and desperation. Both of them were moaning, but behind it—there was something else. Something heavier.
"I... I have a favor to ask of you," the original Florian whispered, his voice breaking as he ground down against Hendrix’s bare length.
Hendrix’s breath hitched, his lip caught between his teeth. "W-What is it? Anything."
Florian’s gaze lingered on the other version of himself—his expression was twisted, not with pleasure alone, but with pain.
’He’s hesitating...’ Florian thought, his chest tightening as he watched the words form slowly on those trembling lips.
"It’s... a rather selfish favor though," the original Florian admitted, biting his lip as his hips continued their unsteady grind.
Hendrix’s brows drew together, concern shining through his flushed face. Even amidst the obvious pleasure, worry eclipsed everything else.
Florian took a step closer, the sound of his shoes muffled by the carpet. "This is where it stopped," he murmured, almost to himself.
The awkwardness was unbearable. Watching the original Florian in such an intimate state was suffocating, invasive, and yet—he couldn’t turn away.
He had already seen so much.
This was just... stranger, his consciousness being forced here to witness it.
Suddenly, tears welled up in the original Florian’s eyes, spilling as he trembled atop Hendrix. His hands shook where they pressed against Hendrix’s chest.
Hendrix, startled, immediately covered them with his own, grounding him gently.
"We can stop if you want," Hendrix whispered, his tone soft.
But the original Florian shook his head violently, tears falling faster. "I-I want to keep going but... for... for a minute, just for a minute..." His voice broke, desperation seeping through every syllable. "Can I please pretend you’re Heinz, just for a minute?"
Florian’s eyes widened. Hendrix’s did too.
Shock. Pain. Silence.
The words hung in the air like shards of glass, cutting into all of them.
’Now that... must’ve been heartbreaking for Hendrix.’ Florian’s thoughts twisted in his chest. He didn’t fully understand it—how Hendrix could love the original him, how it could wound so deeply.
But even if he couldn’t understand... he knew it was cruel. He knew it was heavy.
And yet, how could he judge?
He never once experienced love.
The original Florian flinched at Hendrix’s silence, panic flashing in his teary eyes. "I-I’m sorry if it’s too much. Please just ignore it—"
But Hendrix reached up, cupping his cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear. His smile was soft, almost heartbreaking.
"Go ahead."
The original Florian’s lips parted, his whole body trembling. More tears spilled, wetting Hendrix’s skin as his heart cracked wide open.
Florian could only stare. He wasn’t sure if the other him cried more because he imagined Heinz... or because Hendrix’s quiet acceptance hurt in its own way.
Perhaps it was both—guilt and yearning, tangled together until it was unbearable.
"H-Heinz..." The original Florian whispered through his sobs, looking deep into Hendrix’s eyes as if he truly saw someone else. "I just... I wanted to tell you something I’ve been dying to say."
Florian’s chest constricted. Oh.
He knew what this was.
It had to be that.
The original Florian’s voice shook, words tumbling as though dragged out of him by force. "I’ve been wanting to say it, but I know... I know you’ll keep forgetting. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but you always keep forgetting."
His lips trembled as his sobs broke through, and with shaking hands, he took Hendrix’s hand and guided it down.
Placing it on his stomach.
Florian’s heart stopped.
"I’ve been... doing something bad," the original Florian confessed, voice cracking. "Because I’m scared. I don’t want to go through this alone. Like how I’ve felt... like how I’ve always felt like I was the only one present in our relationship."
Florian’s breath caught sharply, his throat burning. Even if it was just an illusion, a memory, he could feel the pain bleeding through.
’He’s hurting. He’s scared...’
The original Florian shut his eyes tightly, as if bracing himself against the world. "I-I know I’m rambling, I’m not getting straight to the point because it’s... because you..."
But Hendrix didn’t say a word. He simply watched, quiet, steady, waiting.
And then, finally—
"You’re going to be a father." The original Florian’s voice broke into a cry. "I’m pregnant."
The words split the silence apart like lightning.
And Florian could only stand there, trembling, his entire chest hollowing out as the echo of those words rang in his ears.
Though, the tremble inside his chest was suddenly replaced with an eerie, suffocating sensation.
A chill ran down his spine—then came a deafening bang.
Florian’s breath caught in his throat as he felt it—a presence. Slowly, he turned, and his stomach dropped.
It was Heinz.
But not the Heinz he knew. This one radiated fury, his very being seething with a rage so sharp that the air itself felt poisonous.
Both the original Florian and Hendrix snapped their heads toward the noise, their faces draining of all color when they saw him.
"Y-Your Majesty?" the original Florian’s voice cracked, trembling.
Even Hendrix paled, hastily pulling himself out of the bed, his words stumbling. "B-Brother, what are you—"
Before Hendrix could finish, Heinz blurred forward. In an instant, his fist tangled in Hendrix’s hair, yanking him off the bed with merciless force. Hendrix cried out, clawing at Heinz’s hand, but the grip was unrelenting.
"Guards! Lancelot! Come here at once!" Heinz’s roar shook the chamber, booming with authority and venom.
Florian staggered back instinctively, fear rising like bile in his throat.
His gaze darted toward the original Florian, who sat frozen on the bed, trembling so violently he could barely hold himself upright.
"Your Majesty, please... please let him go!" the original Florian begged, voice quivering like glass about to shatter. His desperation filled the air, but Heinz didn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze was locked on Hendrix, eyes burning bright with blood-red fire.
"You dare..." Heinz growled, his voice low, dangerous—then suddenly, Hendrix convulsed.
Florian’s heart lurched. Hendrix’s body seized violently, spasms wracking him as if invisible claws were tearing him apart from within.
"No!" Both Florians screamed—the present one and the original—helpless anguish tearing from their throats.
’What the fuck is he doing?!’ Florian’s mind screamed, panic clawing at him as he tried to lunge forward, to stop it.
But his hands passed through—a memory. This was only a memory. He couldn’t touch, couldn’t interfere, couldn’t stop it.
The original Florian did what he could—rushing to Heinz’s side, grabbing at his arm in desperation. "Your Majesty, please! Please stop! Why are you doing this?!" His tears streamed freely, his voice broken with fear.
But Heinz didn’t relent. Instead, his other hand snapped forward, grabbing the original Florian by the hair, yanking him back with brutal force. Now both Hendrix and Florian were caught in his grasp, both helpless in his hands.
The doors burst open. Several guards stumbled in, their eyes widening at the sight before them.
"Your Majesty, we came as soon as you called. The captain is also on his way—"
"Take these two to the courtyard," Heinz barked, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "Stop the ball. Announce to everyone that Florian Thornfield and Hendrix Obsidian are to be executed."
Gasps filled the room. The knights froze, some hesitating, faces pale with disbelief—but none dared to defy him.
Florian felt his stomach twist.
The original Florian’s eyes widened in horror. "E-Executed?! Your Majesty, what did I—"
"Silence!" Heinz’s scream thundered through the chamber, silencing everyone, even the knights. His gaze was merciless, unflinching. He gestured sharply. "Grab him and drag him there. I’ll deal with this one."
His finger pointed at the original Florian.
Florian’s breath hitched as he saw it—the exact moment something inside the original Florian broke.
His eyes went hollow, his body slack with devastation. His tears no longer carried only fear—they carried betrayal.
Heinz dragged the convulsing Hendrix out, his body already limp and near unconsciousness. The knights obeyed in silence, their armored hands seizing the broken Florian and pulling him out as well.
Florian stood frozen, stunned, his throat dry.
He could do nothing but watch as the original Florian was dragged across the floor, his cries echoing in the chamber, his gaze still desperately clinging to Heinz, begging for acknowledgment that would never come.
Florian’s body moved on instinct, chasing after them—but as he reached the door, his chest slammed against an unseen wall.
Some kind of forcefield. He clawed at it desperately, heart hammering in his chest.
"Let me go," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Let me go, I know I’ve already seen this but let me go—" His voice broke into a scream. "Let me GO!"
But the memory dissolved.
The cries, the rage, the despair—all of it melted into black.
Florian’s eyes shot open.
He was no longer in the dream. No longer in the memory.
He woke up.