Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 207: ’A Sickness With No Name’

Chapter 207: ’A Sickness With No Name’

Leila didn’t hesitate as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, but Florian did.

The moment he crossed the threshold, an uncomfortable chill settled in his chest.

The house was small—far smaller than the one the chief had given him and Heinz—but that wasn’t what unsettled him. It was the sheer state of neglect that filled every corner.

Dust blanketed the wooden floorboards, so thick it dulled what little light managed to filter through the small, dirt-streaked window. Cobwebs stretched from the ceiling beams, thin strands clinging to the edges of the walls.

The furniture—what little there was—was barely more than broken remnants. A rickety wooden table. A single, uneven chair. A thin, moth-eaten blanket draped haphazardly over a makeshift sleeping area in the corner.

It felt... abandoned.

’No, not abandoned. Forsaken.’

Florian had expected modesty, but this—this was something else entirely.

Leila’s voice broke through the silence, cutting through the stagnant air.

"Sorry for the mess," she murmured as she stepped further inside, her voice light but carrying a strange, distant note. "Since I was sick... and Levi left... no one’s been around to clean."

Florian didn’t know what to say to that.

Instead, he let his eyes roam the space again, taking in the small details—the untouched bowls shoved into a corner, coated in dust. The faint, brittle scent of something burnt, as if an attempt at cooking had gone wrong. A chair missing one of its legs, propped up against the wall like even the furniture had given up.

’How long has she been living like this?’

His throat felt tight.

"The chief," he said suddenly, his voice quieter than he meant it to be. "He seemed to care about you. Why didn’t the villagers help?"

Leila had been leading them toward the center of the room, but at his words, she stopped. For a moment, she didn’t answer.

Then—

"The chief is too old," she said simply, her tone unreadable. "And the others... they’re afraid of getting sick."

Florian inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat.

"They think you’re contagious?"

Leila neither confirmed nor denied it. She merely tilted her head slightly, the dim candlelight flickering against her pale skin.

Florian stared at her, the weight of her words sinking deep into his chest.

So that was it.

That was why the villagers kept their distance. Why no one came to clean. Why no one even checked in on her.

She had been left alone. Completely, utterly alone.

And no one did a damn thing about it.

His stomach twisted, and he glanced around again, this time searching for something—anything—that indicated how she had been surviving. But there was nothing. No fresh food, no supplies. Just dust and decay.

His fingers curled into his palms.

’How the hell has she been getting by?’

Before he could ask, Leila turned toward the center of the room and gestured toward the floor.

"Sit," she said softly.

Florian hesitated. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the filth or because of the growing unease curling in his gut, but something about this whole situation didn’t feel right. Still, he lowered himself onto the ground, crossing his legs as he settled in front of the small, dirty coffee table.

Heinz followed suit, his movements careful, calculated. He had yet to say a word since stepping inside, but Florian could feel it—the sharp attentiveness beneath his quiet composure. Heinz was watching. Not just Leila, but everything.

Leila sat down last, lowering herself with an effortless grace that contradicted the frailty of her appearance.

Florian watched her carefully.

’How long has she been sick? How long has she been starving?’

His sympathy warred with his growing concern.

The silence in the room thickened, pressing down like an unseen weight.

Then—

"What is your illness, anyway?"

Heinz’s voice, steady and direct, broke the stillness.

Florian glanced at him, startled by the sudden question.

Heinz wasn’t one to waste words. If he was asking, it was because he had been thinking about it for a while.

Leila, for her part, didn’t seem surprised. If anything, she looked almost... amused.

She turned her gaze to Heinz, and then—

She smiled.

It was small. Almost imperceptible. But there was something about it that made Florian’s skin prickle.

Not because it was eerie, or because it was empty—

Leila’s smile lingered for just a moment before she answered, her voice softer than before.

"I don’t know."

Florian blinked. "What?"

"My illness." She exhaled quietly, her fingers trailing absentmindedly over the dust that had settled on the wooden table. "I don’t know what it is. No one does."

’That... doesn’t make sense.’

"When Levi was still here, a doctor happened to pass through the village," she continued, her voice calm—too calm. "Levi had me checked since I had been feeling weak. My skin was pale, and I would get dizzy at times. But the doctor said he had never seen anything like it before."

Florian frowned. "Never seen it before?"

Leila nodded, her gaze distant. "He called it A Sickness With No Name. Said there was no cure."

Florian’s stomach twisted.

’No cure?’

"But Levi..." A small, wistful smile tugged at her lips. "He didn’t give up. He tried looking for different medicines, hoping something would help. But nothing worked. I stayed the same. So... he left to look for other options."

A lump formed in Florian’s throat. The quiet sadness in her voice made his chest ache.

’Levi left... for her.’

He had stepped into the unknown, searching for a cure that didn’t exist, for a girl left behind in a village that had already abandoned her.

Florian lowered his gaze, his hands curling into fists on his lap.

’How long has she been waiting for him?’

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating—until Heinz finally spoke.

"That’s strange."

Florian’s head snapped up at the sharpness in Heinz’s voice. There was something unnerving about it—an edge that hadn’t been there before.

Heinz was staring at Leila, his amber eyes unreadable.

Leila tilted her head, her expression carefully neutral. "What do you mean?"

Heinz’s gaze didn’t waver. "The chief told us you didn’t know Levi left. That he left suddenly."

Florian felt his pulse quicken.

Leila, however, remained perfectly still.

Heinz’s voice was steady, but his words carried weight. "But now you’re saying you knew why he left."

The air in the room shifted.