Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 257

Chapter 257: ’Like Lucius’

"Space? You’re not making any sense."

Florian finally let go of Lancelot’s hand and took a quick step back, as if the sudden contact had burned him. His heart was still racing—why had he even done that?

Lancelot didn’t complain about the distance but instead looked down at him, his expression unreadable.

Then, to Florian’s surprise, he actually answered him.

"You... are uncomfortable when I’m flirty, so I... tried to be much more proper, like... Lucius."

The words were slow, hesitant, like Lancelot himself couldn’t believe he was saying them. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically shy.

’Huh? Like Lucius?’ Florian’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed those words. ’Lancelot would never do such a thing in the novel. He’s way too proud of who he is.’

His confusion slipped into his voice before he could stop it.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

More importantly—why is he doing it now?

Lancelot looked almost offended that he even had to explain. He scoffed, but there was no bite to it.

"Did you not know that I have feelings for you?"

Florian’s mind blanked.

’Eh?’

No, really—

’Eh?!’

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known that the male leads were showing him affection, but there was always a level of deniability. Something he could pretend didn’t exist if he ignored it long enough.

But now—

Lancelot had just said it.

Flat out.

With no shame, no hesitation.

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Florian felt his stomach drop. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Lancelot seemed to take his stunned silence as permission to continue, even though Florian’s brain was already frying itself trying to process.

"I... You keep pushing me away, and I..." Lancelot trailed off, running a hand through his hair. His frustration was evident—of course it was. Lancelot was used to being confident, dominant, the one in control in any relationship.

Even in the original story, his dynamic with that Florian had been the same.

’Did... Did something happen? Something definitely happened because why—’

"I wanted you to be more comfortable with me, like you are with Lucius." Lancelot exhaled, as if finally letting out something he’d been holding in for a while. His orange eyes locked onto Florian’s. "I... want to be closer to Your Highness."

The words sent an immediate jolt through Florian’s entire body.

His face—no, his entire existence—felt like it was burning.

This wasn’t just the original Florian’s embarrassment bleeding through.

This was him.

This was his own damn reaction.

’Damn this BL novel. Damn this stupid setting. Why am I actually embarrassed?!’

Lancelot, ever perceptive, didn’t miss a thing. His gaze flickered over Florian’s face, and a smirk—small, but definitely amused—tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You’re blushing?"

"W-Why..." Florian immediately slapped his hands over his face, his voice muffled in mortification. "Why wouldn’t I blush?! You’re saying such—!"

He cut himself off before he could embarrass himself even further.

Lancelot, however, was clearly having the time of his life.

"That’s not a negative reaction." His voice was tinged with something that almost sounded... hopeful.

Which only made Florian want to disappear.

Because, honestly? He didn’t know what kind of reaction it was.

He didn’t know anything anymore.

Lancelot took a slow, deliberate step forward.

Florian felt it instantly.

His instincts screamed at him to move, to put more distance between them, to say something to break whatever the hell this was turning into—

But he was too flustered.

And Lancelot was getting closer.

"Your Highness..."

His voice was softer now. Lower.

Florian swallowed hard.

Florian barely had time to process before he felt it—Lancelot’s cool armor brushing against his arm, the contrast stark against the heat creeping up his skin.

Too close.

Way too close.

His breath hitched, his body locking up as if suddenly caged in by the weight of Lancelot’s presence.

"D-Don’t stand too close," he stammered, barely managing to get the words out past the lump in his throat. It was meant to be firm, an order befitting his status, but instead, it came out quieter than he wanted—just a breath between them.

The warmth of his presence remained, unwavering, and Florian was starting to suspect—no, he knew—the man was doing this on purpose. Teasing. Testing. Seeing just how much he could take before breaking.

’Where the hell is Azure?’

A small ripple of panic flickered in his chest, but before he could so much as glance around to check, a voice—low, smooth, dangerous—brushed against his ear like a whisper of smoke.

Florian’s entire body locked up.

Heat exploded across his face, creeping down his neck and burning all the way to his fingertips. He felt lightheaded, almost dizzy from the sheer force of the reaction. _{freewёbnoνel.com}

’N-No. No, I do not.’

He wanted to reject it outright, to shove the accusation back with all the force of a violent storm, but—

’I don’t like it. I don’t.’

It was Lancelot.

And that was what made Florian’s skin feel too tight, like he was wearing the wrong body altogether.

"I was starting to get worried," he mused, his voice dripping with mischief. "But it seems my prince is just shy."

Florian felt the breath in his throat catch.

’Why did I ask?’

’Why did I do this to myself?’

Lancelot chuckled, the sound smooth and velvety, curling around Florian like a taunt. He was about to gather the last shreds of his dignity, about to push Lancelot away and tell him to stop looking at him like that—