Spray-paint

Chapte 5 - Wearhouse

(AN - HOLY SHIT WE'RE ALMOST AT 300 READS YOU GUYS ARE INSANE— I'm glad u enjoy it! :D
Anyway, another long chapter for you pals— it's a bit messy but I've spent too long already on this
Enjoy!)

"I've got a flush,"

"Mm. Checkmate."

"Go Fish."

"What the actual fuck."

The three boys had been left with Wilbur in the dining room, left to entertain themselves while Phil explained to the other person what the hell was going on. Wilbur had given the three a deck of cards, thinking there was no way this could go wrong.

Wrong isn't necessarily the word for this situation.

"You guys have no idea how to play poker, do you?" Wilbur groaned, a smile slipping onto his face.

"Not really-- Purpled tried to teach me, but it was too fuck'n borning." Tommy announced, only slightly boasting.

"That's a lie. You were far too impatient to sit around for a few minutes and learn." Tubbo sneered, setting down his cards.

"Who's Purpled?" Wilbur began to collect the cards, pinching them into a neat deck.

"A pal of ours, we hung out sometimes." Tommy explained.
Wilbur reached for Ranboo's cards, but the boy quickly snatched them away, sending a death glare to the curly haired brit. Wilbur slowly backed away, putting the majority of the deck that he'd collected into the slim box.

"Ah. He need any help?" Wilbur grimaced as he realized Ranboo was still staring at him.

"Nah, he's got his brother." The blonde hummed.

It wasn't a total lie.

He did have a brother, after all.

Just not a very good one.

"Actually-- is it alright if we visit him? I needed to ask him a favor before the-- uh.. Thing happened." Tommy mentioned, his voice growing quiet as he reached the end of his sentence.

Wilbur thought for a few seconds before shaking his head slightly.
"It's not up to me. Phil runs this house, ask him."

"Well that's too bad, 'cause we're going either way-- with your permission or not." Tubbo scowled, looking out the window.

"...fair enough, I guess." Wilbur muttered, his eyes shifting to Ranboo.
The two-toned boy was looking at his cards with a cold stare, as if there was something he didn't quite understand about them.

"You... okay there, Ranboo...?" Wilbur asked hesitantly, a nervous chuckle quickly following the end of his words.

Ranboo looked down at the five cards in his hands, then back up at the three people who sat at the table around him.
He cocked his head to the side before taking a card between his two fingers, handing it to Wilbur as if it were a cigar.

Wilbur carefully took the stiff card, turning it over and observing the picture drawn elegantly onto the cream colored rectangle.

"...King of Clubs?" He questioned, looking over the card thoughtfully.

"Yeah. Keep that one for a bit. You'll need it." Ranboo didn't mean to sound threatening, but based off Wilbur's shaken expression he assumed he accidentally startled him.
Before he could apologize, Tubbo waved at him.

"Oi, we need them too. They're our tickets in." He said, reaching his hand over for a card.

"Yeah-- you're sure our old ones aren't in the bags?" Tommy was fidgeting with a curl in his hair.