Florian felt… strange.
That memory he had with Hendrix—it left something heavy lodged in his chest, something that didn't fade even after waking.
Now, Florian was not new to memories.
Especially memories of the original Florian having intercourse. He had seen it before—with Lucius, with Lancelot, and, surprisingly, even with Heinz.
But this one… this one was different. T
he emotions were sharper, cutting in ways the others hadn't.
With Lucius and Lancelot, there had been doubt and uncertainty.
With Heinz, it had been heartbreak.
And with Hendrix… guilt.
Guilt?
The original Florian had felt a massive, overwhelming wave of it.
Even more guilt than what he'd felt from practically leading on Lucius and Lancelot—who were, after all, the main love interests originally.
But Hendrix… Hendrix had simply been there.
Well… maybe it was because Hendrix died for associating with the original Florian.
Technically, he would've survived if he had never crossed paths with him.
