ρυяε sωεεт ιмαgιηαтιση

The Truth

Willy kept telling me of all these fascinating rooms that he wanted me to see, as we were going on our return trip via Wonkatania. He promised another tour where the rest of the family can come and see the rooms, too.

"Since they may not be up for the vigorous journey of the Candy Horse boat, the Wonkatania would be perfect to tour in. And, perhaps, the glass elevator, if I can figure out how to get it to travel a little slower and more gently..." he rambled. I simply smiled and watched his expressions change by the second as he kept chatting away.

"Willy," I said firmly. He stopped immediately and looked at me with a big grin.

"Your rambling," I said. He gives cocks his head in confusion. I noted, "And when your head cocks to the side."

"What?" he questioned.

He laughed a light laugh, and I then nodded to him and pointed out, "Your laugh."

He grinned widely, and I smiled back, saying, "And your grin. And your eyes."

"My eyes?" Willy raised his brow at me, curious of what I have to say.

"I've never seen purple eyes before. They're fascinating," I said sheepishly, and he smirked and looked ahead of us, a light pink dusting his pale complexion.

"Although, your hair is questionable," I stated mockingly with a nonchalant shrug. He darted his gaze to mine, shock and hurt flooding in his features.

"Hey!" He then tackled me on the seat, and I yelped with laughter. He tickled me and demanded playfully, "Take that back, then I will stop!"

"Never!" I gasped out, fighting off his hands with mine in self-defense. He kept dancing his fingers along my sides, torturing me with no mercy.

"Fine! Suffer the consequences!" Willy laughed and then took my arms with one hand, pinning them above my head, and kept tickling me.

I struggled to breathe, wheezing out, "Mercy! Mercy, please!"

He paused and looked at me. "Take it back, first."

He teased me by holding his free hand right above my gut, threatening to start up my giggles and spark up my nerves.

"Okay! Please, I take it back! Show me mercy!" I giggled out. And he let go of my wrists, only to snake his arm around my waist and pull me up beside him.

He whispered in my ear, sending a shiver down my back, "I dare you to make another teasing comment about my hair. Or that will be the end of you."

I could hear his playful smirk, and I looked up at him with devious eyes.

"I dare you to try and tickle me again, or..." I leaned into his ear, and whispered, "It will be the end for your chocolate."

I felt him shiver beside me, and I smiled. He gasped and leaned away from me, pulling his arm from around my waist, mock-offense on his face. "You wouldn't..."

"I would," I murmured with a daring smirk. He frowned at me and then laughed delightedly, resting his head atop mine.

"I am glad to have met you, Mary," he murmured softly against my hair.

I grinned and said, "Ditto, Willy."

He took my hand in his gloved one, entwining our fingers, the latex squeaking with the movement. We sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the melted chocolate lapping up against the side of the boat.

"Mary?"

"Willy?"

I looked over to him, and he was serious. He looked at me, and asked, "I nearly forgot to bring it up since we are alone, but... what was it that Mrs. Beauregarde had said that hurt you?"

I paused, and looked ahead. He assumed I wasn't going to say anything, and rushed out, "I mean, if you don't mind me asking. I-I was just curious, since you always seem so confident—"

"My parents," I said bluntly. He stopped abruptly, and his brow creased with worry. I pursed my lips and looked at our hands. With a deep sigh, I told him my history, my childhood.

"When I was born, my mother had died just minutes after. My father had told me that she held me for just one minute before she exhaled her final breath. He took me home soon after, and took care of me on his own, doing everything he can to keep me healthy.

"Due to him having to stay with me at home, his job's income plummeted, and he had to work night shifts soon after he received the threat of being fired from his boss. He worked at this toothpaste factory, where Charlie's father worked. You see, they worked there since they were old enough to work, and they practically grew up together.

"Five years after I was born, a tragic accident happened in the factory, causing the death of seventeen workers, including my father. At that very moment, I was at home, soundly asleep in my little bed. It's a very faint memory, but I vividly remember seeing Mr. Bucket lift me out my bed with puffy red eyes. He had some sort of paper in his hand, but I couldn't read it—I didn't know how.

"I was old enough to realize that the Buckets were not my family, and there was a point in my life where I resented them... like it was all their fault my father died. I was just nine years old...

"Charlie wasn't born at the time. He was born the very month when I was to turn fourteen. Nearly two weeks apart, counting the fourteen-year difference. But I knew what this meant to me, and I could actually feel like I had a real family. Charlie assumed I was his older sister by blood ever since he could remember, and it was the most wonderful thing in the world to be loved like that. Unconditionally."

I fell silent, and I felt Willy's gaze on me. I slowly looked up at him, my face drawn with sadness. He had sorrow and sympathy painted across his features. He slowly pulled me to him, wrapping me in a warm hug.

"I am so, so sorry," he murmured softly, resting his chin onto my head as I rested against his chest.

I listened to his heartbeat, and whispered back, "It's okay."

I took a short breath and pulled away from his hug. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, keeping my hand enveloped in his. I smirked and said, "Also, being called a hooker was no fun. I mean, if being adored and adoring others made me a hooker, then what was she?"

He laughed lightly at my sarcastic statement, and my smirk broke into a grin. He chuckled, "You have a point."

The Oompa-Loompas slowed the boat down, and we stopped at a little Swudge port. Willy stood up and gracefully stepped out of the Wonkatania, turning around to help me out.

I took his hand and carefully stepped onto the grassy meadow. I looked back at the small boat, and noticed the Oompa-Loompas were stifling laughs.

"What's gotten them amused?" I asked Willy.

He blushed a little and mutters, "I think it's those gosh-darn cocoa beans again."

I laughed and waved goodbye to them, and we began to head back to the Bucket's household.