Willy Wonka - Oneshots (2023)

Love letter

Other people has described me as shy. Shy, quiet and introverted. I wouldn't necessarily agree, I rather feel like I talk too much once I'm comfortable with a person.

Unless that person is a certain chocolatier, named Willy Wonka. He, just like me, trusted the words of Mrs. Scrubbit and ended up in the launderette. The first day he was there, he walked up beside me and said hello. Smiling and asking me what I was doing.

I ran away. With blushing cheeks and without giving an answer to the kind boy.

I have tried to talk to him! Multiple times. But each time he looks at me with those warm eyes of his, I just melt. Every word that comes out of my mouth at that point is complete nonsense. It's as if my tongue trips on itself every time I try to say "hi".

Suppose that's what happens when you like someone. I've never met a boy like him before. He's smart and creative, not to mention incredible kind and trusting of the people around him. Sometimes to a point of being naive.

I sat down at my desk, holding the pen with my hand. The piece of paper infront of me was empty so far, but my head was full of thoughts. As the genius that I am, I've decided to write him a letter. A letter where I tell him the truth. To tell him my feelings, how he makes my day better whenever he smiles towards me and to tell him that I love the chocolate that he usually leaves outside my door. I want to tell him that he inspires me to fight for my own dreams and that I'm so happy to help him achieve his.

The pen hovered over the paper. The point touched the paper and it began to move, writing. Once I started, the words just flowed. The ink was soon filling up the whole paper. Reading through it, I couldn't help but blush. I've really revealed my whole soul in this.

But, this is good. If I don't do it, I'll never tell him how I feel. Then I'll have to live with the thought of "what if?". In this way, I'll know. If he doesn't say anything to me, then I know that he doesn't like me that way.

Feeling nervous, I left my room and sneaked down the corridor. The wooden floor creaked underneath my steps, I prayed no one would wake up and find me. That would be so embarrasing.

Outside of Willys door, I held hard onto the paper. Taking a deep breath, I slid it underneath his door before (quietly) running away.

That night I couldn't sleep, already regretting what I'd done. But also feeling so alive and proud of myself for daring to.

The next day, nothing had changed. Willy greeted me like usual and he soon sneaked away to sell chocolate. The day after was the same. So was the next day.

Of course. Why would a guy like that like me? He's almost magical. I'm me. I wish I hadn't left him a letter. Silently, I continued working alongside him.

One late evening, I was heading back to my room after staying late in the launderette. Mrs. Scrubbit didn't think that the clean sheets were clean enough so se picked me to wash them again. So when I was finally done and got to go to my room, everyone in the building was already asleep.

Or, so I thought. Willys door was wide open, the light from his room shined through the corridor. My room is on the other end of the corridor, so I have to walk past his door to reach my room.

Maybe he won't notice me if I walk by quickly?

I started walking, more like running, and was just about to pass his door as I glanced in. The sight made me stop dead in my tracks.

Willy sat by his desk, underneath his lamp and was studying the note- my note, and comparing it to another paper of the alphabet. He looked frustrated as he scratched his neck.

What is he doing? Is my handwriting completely unreadable?

I took a step back and the wooden floor creaked underneath my foot. The damn floor gave me away and Willy looked up. We locked eyes for a short moment before he awkwardly looked down at the paper, then looked back at me and gave me a careful smile.