Ace of Spades [DSMP x Reader] (COMPLETED)

Chapter 3

・❥・

People chattering brought some aspect of 'normal' back, as you entered the casino. The lights were flashing in rainbow hues, and there was a distinct scent of cherry and alcohol in the air.

"So this is our casino," you explained, weaving through the slot machines and card tables, "you can try some of the games, if you have money for it. I do have to warn you though, the house always wins."

Wilbur laughed. You glanced back at him. His eyes were alight, drinking in all the colorful chaos. "That's hilarious."

It wasn't very funny, but you smiled awkwardly anyways. You passed a roulette table, the whir of the spinner mixing with the clicking of the betting chips. "We also have a bar, if you drink," you mentioned.

Normally you would've been the one drying the glasses and pouring the cocktails, but this time, Fundy waved at you from the bar. "Drinks!" Wilbur exclaimed, "I love drinks, especially—"

Whatver his favorite drink was, you'd never get to hear, because Wilbur stopped short in the middle of his sentence. You glanced over at him. His face was even paler than it was before, the casino lights reflecting perfectly off of his skin, and his eyes were wide, staring directly ahead.

You looked over. Fundy had frozen too, his clawed hands gripping a delicate champagne glass so hard it might break. Maybe the two had history, you considered, or maybe Fundy was just terrified of the former civil terrorist. But then why had Wilbur frozen as well?

Wilbur shifted very slightly, and then whirled around, turning his back to the bar. "Actually, I don't feel like drinking tonight, let's go look at something else," he announced.

But even so, as you continued to circle through the casino, Wilbur took a glass of champagne from one of the waiters, and downed the entire thing. You frowned at him, a little concerned. Civil terrorist or not, what did he have to do with Fundy?

"Why do you not like Fundy?" you asked bluntly.

Wilbur stumbled to a halt in the middle of one of the rows of slot machines, turning around again. He hadn't met your eyes since you stopped by the bar. "Fundy? Who's Fundy?" he asked, avoiding your gaze.

"You know who Fundy is," you insisted.

He glanced at you, only briefly, and then his eyes flitted away again. "I don't know who Fundy is."

"He's the person we met at the bar. The one I can very clearly see you trying to avoid."

"Look, it's none of your business," Wilbur snapped, suddenly icy cold, "I came here for a tour, not an interrogation. Are you going to show me around the casino or not?"

You stared at him. Maybe it'd be best to keep him away from Fundy, at least for Fundy's sake and not his.

"You've already seen everything here," you decided, "I'll show you around the needle next."

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