Florian braced himself for the inevitable. His stomach had already begun to twist, the nausea rising like a wave—he was sure he was about to be sick.
But then—
Nothing.
The feeling disappeared as suddenly as it had come, leaving him cold and disoriented.
'What…?'
His breath hitched. His body, which had been moments away from violently rejecting the meal, was now perfectly fine. No pain, no burning, not even lingering unease. It was as if the nausea had never been there at all.
A shiver crawled down his spine. The abrupt shift was unnatural, unsettling in a way he couldn't quite name.
Florian barely had time to process the confusion before he realized something else—Heinz still hadn't let go.
He lifted his head slightly, taking in the steady warmth of Heinz's grip, the effortless way he was being carried. There was no strain, no sign of difficulty—Heinz wasn't even winded.
A flicker of heat burned at the edges of Florian's pride.
