Florian didn't know how to react.
He didn't even know how to breathe.
His entire body was locked in place—stiff, unyielding—as if any movement would shatter the fragile hold he had over himself. The weight of his situation pressed down on him like a suffocating fog, thick and inescapable. His stomach twisted, a violent churn that sent waves of nausea rolling through his entire being. His pulse pounded in his skull, deafening, drowning out the world beyond his own mind.
He was on top of Heinz.
Heinz's arm was wrapped around him—an iron grip that brooked no resistance.
And worst of all—
Heinz's hand was clamped over his mouth.
Florian wanted to scream. To thrash. To rip himself away and put as much distance as possible between them—between himself and what he had done.
But he couldn't.
