Somebody was about to lose a finger, or an eye, Wilbur hadn't decided yet. He ground his teeth together as he watched you con a free drink out of an older gentlemen. A skittle bomb. Wilbur should have been used to it, you did it all the time. But with the way that man was looking at you it made Wilbur want to tear his throat out. Actually. That wouldn't be such a bad idea if he could just-

“Stop stalking the bartender.” Technos rumble reached Wilbur’s ears, the brunette rolled his eyes.

“I’m not stalking.” Wilbur defended, Techno raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Wilbur huffed, embarrassed he’d been caught starting at you again, he couldn’t help it! You were an utter vision, and seeing every sleezy, nasty person in this place trying to get their hands on you was infuriating.

You were clearly uncomfortable with this man’s advances, ignoring the ring on your finger and flirting with you relentlessly while you tried to just get on with your shift.

Techno sighed, in his Techno fashion that made Wilbur know that Techno was giving up for now on getting him to stop.

Wilbur paid no mind, nursing his whiskey and watching the man grab your arm gently, flirty.

Alright that’s it’s.

Wilbur stood, walking over, taking your hand and kissing the ring in your finger, it was fake. You had mentioned that it helped with getting hit on but clearly this guy didn’t care.

“Hello, my angel.” He crooned, pulling you near him from his respective side of the bar.