Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 239

Chapter 239: ’Clinging’

Florian’s stomach twisted as his gaze locked onto Cashew’s face. The quiet intensity that usually defined him had vanished, stripped away and replaced with something raw—something dark.

His lips, usually soft with silent obedience, were pressed into a thin, bloodless line. His small hands, delicate but firm, trembled as they curled into fists at his sides.

A flicker of unease crawled down Florian’s spine, cold and insistent.

’What is that look...?’

Cashew had never looked at anyone like that before. Not with such deep-seated anger, not with a loathing so sharp it seemed to carve itself into his usually gentle features. And worse—Florian had no idea why.

’This again... Why does he hate Heinz so much?’

But this wasn’t the time.

Florian exhaled slowly, pushing down the tangled knot of disappointment tightening in his chest. He didn’t want to separate from Cashew again—not after everything, not after finally making it back, after finally feeling like things between them were steady again.

But the conversation ahead was important. They needed to discuss what happened in the village. They needed to plan.

So, with quiet resolve, he nodded at Heinz before turning to Cashew. His hand lifted, fingers settling atop the boy’s head, ruffling his pale blond hair in a familiar, comforting motion.

"Wait in my room," Florian murmured, his tone soft yet firm. "I’ll be there right away, okay?"

He expected the usual response—Cashew’s quiet nod, the slight dip of his head, the obedient retreat.

Instead—

Cashew clung to him.

Tightly.

His small arms wrapped around Florian’s waist in a desperate grip, his body pressing close, refusing to let go. His breath hitched against Florian’s chest, warm and unsteady.

"I want to go with you," he whispered. His voice trembled, fragile yet unwavering.

Florian’s breath caught.

A rare silence settled over the room, thick and weighted.

Lucius and Lancelot both stiffened at the unexpected defiance.

Especially Lucius.

"Cashew." Lucius’s voice was cool, controlled—but the warning in it was unmistakable. "Do not behave like this in front of His Majesty."

Florian’s brows furrowed. His eyes snapped to Lucius, irritation flaring hot in his chest. His grip on Cashew’s shoulder tightened, protective.

’Seriously? The kid is scared of something, and that’s your reaction?’

Ignoring Lucius entirely, Florian sighed softly. His fingers threaded through Cashew’s hair in a slow, soothing motion, trying to ease the tension he could feel wound so tightly beneath the boy’s skin.

"It’ll be quick," he promised. "I’ll be back before you even notice."

But Cashew only shook his head, his face pressing harder against Florian’s chest. His fingers curled into the fabric of Florian’s clothes, clutching with a desperate kind of strength—as if letting go would mean losing something precious.

Florian’s heart ached.

’Damn it...’

He swallowed, glancing up—only to find Heinz watching.

Crimson eyes, unreadable. Expression, carefully impassive. He wasn’t reacting, wasn’t moving. Just observing.

A nervous knot twisted in Florian’s stomach.

Heinz might have been treating him decently, but this was different.

This was Cashew.

And Florian was scared for him.

He swallowed hard, feeling the boy’s small frame pressed against him, trembling but unyielding.

"Cashew," he whispered, softer now, almost pleading. "Come on, you have to let go."

But Cashew only clung tighter.

"I don’t want to leave you," he murmured. The words were barely a whisper, yet they carried a weight that sent a chill down Florian’s spine.

This wasn’t just childish attachment.

This was fear.

And the longer this dragged on, the worse it would get.

Florian could feel it—the air growing heavier, the stares pressing in, the quiet tension stretching tighter and tighter. He stole a glance toward Heinz.

’How long before his patience runs out?’

He tried again, his fingers gently prying at Cashew’s arms, attempting to loosen the grip. But the boy didn’t budge. Instead, his fingers clenched harder, as if letting go would mean losing something irreversible.

A shift. A step forward.

Florian sensed it before he saw it.

Lancelot.

The knight commander’s presence loomed, his footsteps slow, deliberate. Florian could feel the weight of his intent, the subtle way his hands twitched at his sides—ready.

Ready to pull Cashew away himself.

Florian’s instincts roared. Before his mind could catch up, his body moved—stepping back, pulling Cashew with him.

’No way. You are not touching him.’

’...Wait. What?’

"His Majesty is already moving. Keep up."