Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 206

Chapter 206: ’Don’t Go Anywhere Without Me’

Florian inhaled sharply, his entire body tensing at the sudden grip on his arm. His mind jolted, instincts roaring to life. The title nearly slipped from his lips—

"Your Maj—"

He barely caught himself in time, choking back the words before they could escape. His breath hitched for the briefest second, a crack in his composure, but he forced himself to recover quickly. To mask the jolt of panic crawling up his spine with a carefully constructed indifference.

A beat. Then, with a forced, casual ease, he turned his head and met those piercing red eyes.

"Anastasius! You surprised me."

The name felt strange on his tongue. Wrong. But he said it anyway, keeping his voice steady, his face blank. No hesitation. No cracks.

Leila was already watching.

Florian could feel her gaze—sharp, dissecting, unblinking. She wasn’t just looking. She was studying.

’She’s trying to piece it together.’

And the worst part? Heinz wasn’t making it any easier.

His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm, grounding. A silent warning. His presence alone was suffocating, commanding attention without effort, and Florian felt the weight of it pressing down on him.

Leila shifted slightly, head tilting in quiet calculation. Then, in a voice too calm, too measured, she asked,

"Who is that?"

There was no fear. No wariness. Just quiet, patient curiosity.

And Florian hated that.

It was too much. She was taking things too well.

That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t right.

But he didn’t let the unease show. Instead, he slipped into practiced ease, offering a smooth, rehearsed answer.

"He’s a knight and an arcanior assigned to help me..." A pause. "Help you."

It wasn’t a lie.

But it wasn’t the truth either.

Leila hummed, neither accepting nor rejecting his words. But her eyes lingered—longer than Florian would’ve liked—on Heinz.

Like she was peeling back layers.

Like she was trying to see what wasn’t meant to be seen.

Then Heinz finally spoke, voice flat, unreadable.

"Where are you going?"

Not directed at Leila. Not once did he acknowledge her presence. His entire focus was on Florian.

Watching. Waiting.

’He’s not asking because he’s curious.’

Florian knew that much just by looking at him.

He’s asking because he already knows something.

Something Florian doesn’t.

A quiet pressure coiled in his chest, but he didn’t falter. His voice came out lower this time, quieter.

"Leila asked me to go to her house so we can discuss more."

A beat of silence.

Then—Heinz sighed.

Florian barely had time to process it before he was pulled forward.

It wasn’t harsh, but it was sudden. The shift in proximity sent a jolt of surprise through him, breath stalling as he found himself closer.

Too close.

Much closer than he was comfortable with.

For a split second, Florian swore he felt the heat radiating from Heinz’s skin, the weight of his presence settling around him like an unshakable force.

Then Heinz spoke, voice lower, quieter.

"Don’t go anywhere without me."

It wasn’t a request.

It was an order.

The words crawled over Florian’s skin, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

His heart did something strange.

Something it absolutely should not be doing.

His pulse skipped, a heat creeping up his neck, and for one, singular, frustrating moment—he was certain it wasn’t his reaction.

’No. No, no, no. That was the original Florian.’

Irritation flared, burning through his chest.

’Damn it, Florian!’

Why?

Why now?

He didn’t want to feel anything. He didn’t want the warmth prickling at his skin, didn’t want the strange twist in his stomach.

But in something he refused to name.

Scowling, he ripped his arm free, stepping back as quickly as possible. He turned on his heel, refusing to look at Heinz—refusing to give him the satisfaction of whatever expression was on his face.

And he didn’t wait for a response.

But Florian felt it.

’Good question.’

Now that she mentioned it, Florian realized the same thought had crossed his mind. A village like this was quiet—too quiet. If Heinz had been approaching, Florian should’ve at least heard the sound of footsteps, felt the shift of presence, something.

Heinz had simply been there.

Not with him.

Florian turned sharply at that, eyes locking onto Heinz, searching—praying—for any sign that he was lying.