Chapter 59 He is My Boyfriend

Chapter 59 He is My Boyfriend
When Leo rounded the corner of the McFarland hallway after his long botany lab, he stopped so abruptly he nearly dropped his sample case.
The corridor had been transformed. Miri had used her townie ingenuity and a spool of industrial-grade wire to turn the stone hall into a sanctuary. On both sides of the Open Door, dozens of glass jars and beakers hung at staggered heights. The wildflowers—clovers, snapdragons, and wild rye—vibrated slightly with the building's natural resonance, creating a living tunnel of color that led straight into the heart of the Wing.
Inside, the atmosphere was electric. Echo was back at her desk, looking like a queen who had just defended her borders, while Franklin was already halfway to the door the moment he saw Leo.
"You're just in time for the delivery," Franklin said, his grin wider than Leo had seen it in days.
"What is all of this?" Leo asked, gesturing to the floral gauntlet and the stacks of fresh bread, fruit, and honey. "Did the town empty their pantries for us?"
Puck was standing in the center of the room, wiping sweat from his forehead. He didn't have a lick of magic, but he had a townie’s practical muscle and a heavy-duty rolling cart he’d scavenged from the maintenance tunnels. He was currently heave-hoing the last of the heavy crates onto a long, ornate carpet he’d laid over the cart’s flatbed.
"The Headmaster tried to call it 'debris,'" Willow said, her voice giddy with the memory. "Echo basically told him that his 'debris' is the only thing keeping the Academy's heart beating. So, we’re taking the gratitude of the valley where it’s needed most."
Since Puck couldn't float the feast with a spell, the group did it the McFarland way: together. Puck took the lead, steering the heavy, carpet-covered cart with practiced ease, while Dean and Franklin walked on either side to steady the overflowing baskets of sourdough and apples.
Echo led the procession and Franklin pulled Leo into the center of the formation. He kept his arm firmly around Leo’s shoulders, making it clear that the scholarship student was an equal part of the "Big Six."
As they rolled the cart into the Great Hall, the heavy wooden wheels thudded against the stone floors like a drumbeat. The "McFarland Family" arrived not with legal threats, but with a bounty that smelled of sunlight and yeast.
"Fresh bread for the hungry!" Puck shouted, his voice booming without any magical amplification, just pure townie grit. "Compliments of the people you haven't bothered to thank! Dig in!"
They parked the cart in the middle of the student rows, far away from the elevated Faculty Table. Puck and Miri started tossing apples and rolls to the students, while Franklin leaned down, whispering to Leo as they watched the scholarship kids—the ones usually ignored by the kitchen staff—fill their plates.
"Echo stood him down, Leo," Franklin whispered, his eyes gleaming. "She told him we’re tracing every penny. He looked like he wanted to crawl into the floorboards."
Leo looked at the scene—the flowers, the food, and the defiant family he had stumbled into. He leaned his head against Franklin’s shoulder, right there in the middle of the crowded hall, ignoring the few remaining glares from the legacy tables.
"I’m glad I didn't go home," Leo whispered.
"Me too," Franklin replied, squeezing his shoulder. "We’ve got a lot more work to do, but I think the town just voted. They’re on our side."
The Great Hall was filled with the sound of tearing crusts and the sweet, rich scent of chocolate muffins, but the tension hadn't vanished entirely. Even with the McFarland Wing providing a feast, some of the legacy students couldn't stand seeing the "natural order" upended.
As Leo was handing a basket of apples to a younger student, three upperclassmen from the Domain wing—boys who still wore their family crests like armor—approached the table. They didn't reach for the food; they looked at it, and then at Leo, with sneers that could have curdled the milk.
"So this is how it works now?" the tallest one drawled, leaning over the table toward Leo. "You trade a few Dorset secrets in the library, and suddenly you’re the Academy’s charity king? It’s pathetic, really. You think some townie bread makes you one of us?"
Leo’s hand tightened around the handle of the basket. He didn't look up, his gaze fixed on the table as that familiar, cold knot of shame began to tighten in his chest. "It’s just bread," he murmured. "People were hungry."
"People are always hungry," the boy spat. "But you’re the only one desperate enough to—"
He didn't get to finish.
Franklin, who had been laughing at a joke Puck made, went dead silent. He didn't just stand up; he seemed to loom, his presence suddenly filling the space like a physical weight. He moved with a speed that startled the onlookers, stepping between Leo and the bullies so sharply that the tall boy had to stumble back to avoid a collision.
Franklin didn't use a quiet, diplomatic "Oversight" voice. He used the voice of a Dorset who had finally found something worth fighting for.
"I’m going to make this very simple for you," Franklin said, his voice low and vibrating with a dangerous heat. He stepped directly into the boy’s personal space, forcing him to look up. "This isn't 'charity,' and he isn't a 'project.' He is my boyfriend."
The word echoed through the silent Dining Hall. It was the first time Franklin had used the label so clearly, so loudly, and so unapologetically.
"If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me," Franklin continued, his eyes locked on the bully’s. "And if you have a problem with me, you’re dealing with the McFarland Wing. So back the hell off. Now. Before I decide that your family’s dormitory is the next place we look for 'mismanaged' funds."
The boys turned pale. The threat of a McFarland audit was enough to terrify their parents, but the look in Franklin’s eyes—the raw, protective fury—was what sent them scrambling. Without a word, they turned and practically fled toward the far side of the hall.
Franklin didn't sit back down immediately. He took a deep breath, his shoulders slowly dropping from their combat stance. He turned to Leo, his expression melting instantly from ice to warmth. He reached out, taking Leo’s hand and bringing it to his lips for a brief, firm kiss in front of the entire student body.
"You okay?" Franklin whispered.
Leo looked up at him, his heart hammering, but for the first time, it wasn't from fear. It was from the sheer, overwhelming realization that he wasn't alone. "Yeah," Leo smiled, his voice steady. "I'm okay."
Puck let out a low whistle from the end of the table. "Note to self: Never touch Franklin’s boyfriend or his muffins. Both lead to certain death."
"You know it," Franklin laughed.