A swarm of cadet blue clad policemen entered the atrium like soldiers, surprisingly lax for their stature. "Alright, folks! Nothing to see here! Just a small group of people defying the laws of gravity. Hook 'em boys," came the oh, so, familiar voice of the chief of police. You quickly noted that you recognized too many voices, which probably meant you were in trouble with too many people.
"That's the Hoverchoc, sir. That's the point!"
"I'm afraid we've had some complaints about you, sir," a policeman told Willy.
"Complaints?" Willy repeated.
"That you're disrupting the trade of other businesses." You and Willy listened in confused silence, "I'm regrettably obliged to move you on and confiscate your earnings."
"Hey! What are you doing!" Willy called out as the chief mercilessly took his jar of sovereigns right out of his own arms. The man himself holding down a floating nun with nothing more than a conveniently on hand rope.
"Don't worry, it's going to a good cause. Sick kids or something." He lazily replied to Willy's anxious cries. You and Willy looked back at the officer you just spoke to in shock.
"But police seizu—"
The man interrupted you, "Aren't you the woman who's been illegally selling paintings?"
"What?" Willy asked, staring down at you even more confused—and concerned—than before.
"I-I don't know who you are talking about. You must have the wrong person," you stumbled out, shrinking just about three sizes in the process.
He gave you a suspicious stare before continuing on. "I'm sorry madame, and sir, but rules is rules."
Willy looked at the ground, "Can you at least leave me a sovereign? I need to pay for my room," he asked.
The man looked back at the other police officer with the poor hysterical nun—and more importantly, Willy's change—before taking a sovereign out of his own pocket. "Here."
"Thank you," Willy said solemnly. And then the officer left. And then Willy took your hand and the two of you left as well.
The walk was long and silent. The sky had gone from blue and happy, full of hope and dreams to a dull suffocating gray mist. Eventually you broke the thin glass of supposed solitude, "At least we know people like your chocolate," you said, meagerly.
"Hm, I guess you're right." He mumbled. You'd only known him for a day, but this was definitely not the Willy you'd met. "So... illegal artwork?"
You froze for a moment, "You're not allowed to sell on the streets. If you're successful, rich businesses will claim things like "copyright violations" and "plagiarism" and other fibs. No real evidence or lawsuit, nope, just buying out the local police. Everything is so prestigious that "untrustworthy freelancer" gets stamped on anyone who doesn't own a shop around here."
"Freelancer? Don't you work for Mrs. Scrubitt?"
"That's true."
"How's the pay? I might get a job there as well if this takes longer than expected," he asked, solemnly. The fact that he even suggested an idea with how proud he was of his chocolate made you feel as if he'd lost hope.
"You don't know the half of it."
He stared at you for a moment, quirking an eyebrow, "So, what made you give me that sovereign?"
"The what?"
"Last night, on the bench. You left me a sovereign and then disappeared!"
"Oh, well I was hoping you'd find a better place to stay than that bench..." 'and then Mrs. Scrubitt made up a stupid Entrepreneurial Suite and got you roped into this while taking back my hard earned sovereign in the process!' You wished to say so badly.
"Oh, well, thank you. I might be frozen half to death if it weren't for you," you smiled at his gratitude which always managed to shine through over his sorrows. "Sorry, we didn't exactly have the best first impression. A dog snapping at my trousers and all..."
"Don't worry about it," you giggled. "You know, I'm more of a cat person myself." He chuckled at that.
"So am I."
As the two of you crossed the old stone bridge, so close to your horrid home, you mustered up the courage to pitch an idea to the mysterious man. "Willy."
"Yes?" He quickly asked.
"What if... you left? Run away while you still can!" His eyes widened with shock at your words.
"But I still need to pay for my room!" You hated his lovable loyalty. At least he had enough integrity to pay up all he had. "That's your orphan syndrome isn't it?"
"My what syndrome?" You asked.
"Your orphan syndrome," he repeated.
"Listen, I don't know what nonsense those monstrosities drilled into your head, but—" you stopped in your tracks as Willy opened the door to the guest home. Quickly pressing yourself to the wall in fear Mrs. Scrubitt would catch sight of you. He stared at you like a confused deer, tilting his head to the side with the door still propped open.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
You pressed a finger to your mouth and heard a faint sound; Mrs. Scrubitts voice. "Evening Mr. Wonka—" Willy snapped his head to the women.
You waved goodbye and left through the alleyway. Careful to steer clear of any windows until you reached the very rear of the building. You carefully removed the rusty grate from the lowest window and flicked the latch open. For the first time since you'd done this, you slipped in undetected. In contrast to the usual concerns or curious fawns you got from the group of "guests," you received backs turned to you. That wasn't because they weren't interested, no, it was because of the commotion going on. That was because someone a lot more unexpected had just entered the laundry.
~•~
965 words
"Worked for a while on this one! How is the story so far? Good? Does Willy sound like Willy? I'm working on his dialogue. Vote for more and please comment your thoughts and I'll see you next chapter!"
- Coffee
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Who You Share it With (Willy Wonka x reader)
Fanfiction"She's been here all along, Willy." "And so have you." You've met a man. A magic man. Strange; charming; peculiar. Though, he somehow managed to get in between a rock and a hard place not one day into town. Just as swiftly as he had entered, he beca...
