Guilty Pleasure (Wonka x Reader)

Chapter Thirteen - Wonka

Warning: This chapter is a bit dark. It touches on suspected child abuse, verbal abuse, PTSD, and murder. If any of that makes you uncomfortable, please don't proceed.

I watched as my angel eased into her seat. As she closed her eyes, a sweet smile crept across her luscious lips. Her whole body relaxed, and a peaceful expression softened beautiful face, causing the air to leave my lungs. She was absolutely breathtaking both figuratively and literally. The urge to touch her increased tenfold. Almost unconsciously, I reached out to brush my knuckles across her creamy cheek when an all too familiar grating voice broke the serenity.

"Hey, daddy! I want a boat like this. A beautiful paddle boat, that what I want!" The little brat shouted in glee. I watched glumly as my angel's eyes snapped open, an annoyed expression taking the place of her previous peaceful one.

Turning to Charlie, I watched as she whispered to him very quietly. So quietly in fact, I had to strain my ears in order to hear her. "What she needs is a good kick in the pants." I pressed my fingertips against my lips in order to stifle a chuckle.

"I think I'm gonna be seasick."

Schooling my features, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a few rainbow drops to give to the most disagreeable woman. "Here. Try one of these," I encouraged.

"What are they?" Mrs. Teevee asked warily, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Honestly, I am not quite sure what her problem is. It's not like I am going to poison her! As appealing as the thought was, it wasn't my intention to cause serious, permanent harm to any of these people.

"Rainbow drops. Suck em' and you can spit in seven different colors." I answered as evenly as possible.

"Spitting's a dirty habit," Her son said. His comment would have been more impactful if it wasn't for the fact that his finger was shoved so far up in his nostril that I feared he would cause damage to his nasal cavity.

"I know a worse one," I said, not bothering to hide my disgust at the boy's lack of manners. He might just be the second most annoying brat here...right after Miss. Salt of course. Actually, come to think of it, they are the only annoying brats here now. Charlie seemed too sweet to ever be described in such a derogatory fashion and the more time that I spend with him and his sister, the fonder I seem to grow of him. I can definitely envision working with him and teaching him all of the finer points of chocolate and candy making.

As for Miss. Beauregarde, I can envision her here as well. I sneak a glance at her and see that she doesn't seem too comfortable sandwiched between her father and Mr. Salt as she was looking around the room, biting her lip. Her troubled expression seemed to increase only when she looked at Mr. Salt and although she did not gaze at her father with the same amount of distrust, she still seemed stiff. 'Perhaps, she is nervous around men?' I narrowed my eyes in contemplation. 'Now what on earth could cause a girl her age to seem so uncomfortable around men?' A couple of...unsavory scenarios filtered across my thoughts, causing a sour taste in my mouth and a burning, all consuming anger to spread throughout my body like a cancerous poison. I felt myself slowly slipping and I had to close my eyes and try to ground myself. When I finally felt like I was in control, I opened them and gave Miss. Beauregarde one last glance.

Despite how uncomfortable she seemed, I noticed her wonder and amazement when she gazed around at the chocolate room one last time. Her eyes appeared to be drinking in every last detail. Almost as if she was committing it to memory. Normally, that would cause suspicion on my part, however, it was something in her eyes that immediately caused all distrust to leave my mind. She looked as everything in sight as if it was the most magical thing she's ever seen...as if it would be the only magical thing she would ever see in her entire life. She gazed around almost frantically as if she were afraid to miss a single detail. However, behind that wonder and amazement was a deep sadness that did not belong in a little girl's eyes. 'Who has hurt you?'