gross idiot [5]

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QUACKITY POV:

"hey!- where are you going?" wilbur caught up with me, a grin showing on his face, obviously finding it amusing to tease him.

I grunted and didn't answer him, and sped up my walking pace.

he continued to follow me until I got extremely sick of it, also that quackity was dangerously near the prison and needed wilbur gone.

"okay seriously! what the fuck do you want from me?!" I spun around and snapped at him

he tapped his lip slightly and said "a kiss"

"w- what the fuck?!" my wides shot wide, what the fuck did he just say to me?!

he seemed to be taken aback too, we both looked at eachother, my face probably red from embarrassment, a tint of pink on his cheeks mimicking mine.

"listen! that wasn't me- I- forget it." he tried to explain but couldn't find the words, and groaned

he seemed to be just as confused as I was, so i pushed the subject even more.

"no, tell me." i said and gripped his trench coat slightly

he widened his eyes at my touch and simply swatted his hands away "don't need to get all flirty today ducky " he attempted to change the subject

i was too distracted to realize what else he was saying.

I know you're out there. what you've done to me. and you're gonna pay for it.

shit. he needed to get to dream, something was most definitely wrong.

how the fuck does he get this idiot off his tracks? while wilbur rambled on about something quackity, frankly, didn't care about.

so quackity did something bold he definitely shouldn't have.

"listen will, I know you want to kiss me and all, but I really gotta go somewhere." quackity said, giving wilbur a bored expression while pointing at him

a shade of red painted his face "can't you save your little "something" for later?" wilbur stepped closer to quackity

quackity stared at him "no, see you later asshole." then he turned away, off to the prison

this time wilbur didn't follow surprisingly, but hey, quackity wasn't complaining, guess God was on his side today.

quackity rushed to the prison, a huge wicked smile spreading across his face each second.

it felt like years the last time he visited the prison, tortured dream.

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