Willy Wonka - Oneshots (2023)

Magic

I don't believe in magic. Everything has a logical explanation. Everything bends according to the laws of physics. Everything and everyone. Except. For him. Wonka whatever his name is again.

I stared daggers at the man from across my window from the second level of the building. In a purple rock, tall hat and with a cane, he was performing and charming every passerby with his chocolate. That man, he with the curly dark hair, had something hypnotic to him.

But as I glanced up to my father, Mr. Slugworth, I knew immediately that the happy man on the street was a threat. My father rarely shows any true emotions. According to him, everything is business. It has it's laws, just like the universe and the laws of physics.

I turned around on my heel and walked quickly down the steps, to our front entrence where I grabbed my thick and expensive coat. Pushing open the heavy door, I could immediately hear the jolly voices of the people on the street. It was as if Wonkas chocolate was all they needed to bring out a smile and a ounce of warmth.

I sneered at some people to get out of my way, as I quickly walked closer to the center, where the strange man was giving out chocolate, almost for no money at all.

As I got closer, Wonka lifted his head and saw me. For a short moment, I was stunned by his hazel coloured eyes. I've never seen eyes like that. Containing not only the genuine, happy feeling of sharing his work with strangers, but also... A touch of magic.

I shook my head, no. Magic doesn't exist. Wonka looked away from me, as he gave a yellow coloured piece of chocolate to a older lady.

I took another step forward and cleared my throat in order to get Mr. Wonkas attention. When I didn't immediately have his attention, I cleared my throat again. This time louder and more aggressive. Wonkas eyes moved to me.

"Do you have a sore throat, miss?" He asked me with genuine concern. I narrowed my forehead at his dumb question. He must have understood that I wanted his attention?

"No, I want to ask you the name of who gave you permission to sell chocolate here." I said, while holding my chin up high. Wonka was taller than me, but I refused to be looking up at him.

Wonka leaned his head, really looking at me with those wondering eyes.

"I, Willy Wonka, gave myself permission!" He declared proudly, smiling widely. He pulled out a tiny box with green paper out of his jacket, and showed it to me. "Miss, can I borrow your hand for a short moment?"

Once again, I narrowed my forehead at his request.

"Why?" I asked as I hesitantly held up my hand. Wonka smiled warmly, and placed the box in my open palm.

"I want to give you chocolate that contains lemon and honey. It will help against your sore throat."

"I don't have a... Forget it. My father has the best chocolate here. You shouldn't think that you could best him in any way." I said and sighed, and looked at the box in my hand. Father doesn't like factors he can't control. Willy Wonka, with all his querks, is the very definition of uncontrollable.

He smiled, the confidence was clear. "You haven't tried my chocolate yet."

Then, the brown haired man took a step closer. I looked up, and swallowed nervously when I realised how close he was. He, on the other hand seemed unbothered by the lack of personal space.

"What should I call you?" He asked, looking down at me, while holding that cane of his.

"Y/n." I answered, not bothering to give my lastname since he should already know it.

"Y/n." He said. Why does he say my name like that? In a swift movement of hands, he suddenly held on to another piece of chocolate that he handed over. It was very pretty, chocolate brown and decorated with my favorite colours.

"A sweet chocolate to a sweet girl." The way Wonka looked at me had me convinced that he saw me in a different light than others did.

I've talked to this man for only a short moment, yet this moment had me hypnotized by the way he works.

I was abruptly pulled out of Wonkas hypnotizing charm when the police showed up. Looking back at my dad and judging from the grin on his face, it was obvious who had called the police.

Wonka tilted his hat towards me, like a way of saying goodbye, as he suddenly vanished. I saw him run into the crowd of people, but as I blinked he was gone. Leaving me with a feeling a haven't felt before and two different chocolates in my hands.

Maybe, just maybe, Willy Wonka could be the person who could make me believe that magic do exist.