Who You Share it With (Willy Wonka x reader)

21. Oh Dear

"Oh, dear," were the first words out of your mouth as you woke up with a barely audible, but still unpleasant, squelch. You knew that feeling in your nightgown; the feeling you'd known and despised since the first time it occurred when you were eleven.

"Oh, dear?" came a voice from the other side of the room. Said voice just made the situation even more painful. Thank goodness he'd already gotten up, or you'd probably die of embarrassment. Not to say you weren't already about to die of embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry... um, why don't you get down for morning roll call while I get dressed?" you asked, staring at the ground in the hopes of not turning as red as a beetroot.

"Are you sure?" he took a step towards you and your pile of blankets, and you flinched out of instinct.

"Yes," you responded quickly.

His head tilted slightly to one side and he kept biting his lips. "Are you alright?" he asked, tone laced with concern. Your mouth parted to respond, but before you got the chance to, his eyes widened as if he'd just seen a ghost, "Is that blood?!" he exclaimed, expression riddled with dread and confusion.

Your gaze followed his own to rest on your blanket. It was difficult to tell, but a tiny reddish-brown splotch was present on a spot near your abdomen. "Oh, no. It's um... a-an old stain... might've been from the candy that Oompa-Loompa kept tossing around," you lied as well as you could when no thoughts entered your mind. You felt a pang of guilt fibbing to him, but you weren't enticed by the thought of having to explain what a lady's week was.

His eyebrows raised in understanding and a little, "oh," left his lips as if he'd figured out what was going on. "Alright. If you need anything, I will be in the laundry," he said, leaving the room immediately.

"Okay, time to see the damage," you muttered lowly after he'd left. Flipping the blanket to the other side of the bed, you found the minuscule stain Willy was so worried about was the least of your problems. There was a plate-sized puddle of red on the sheets. One that was probably mirrored on the rear of your nightgown. You threw your head back in exasperation, sighing in annoyance at the thought of having to clean all of this up.

~•~

Willy's feet missed a step and he stumbled down the stairs, nearly losing balance. Despite his efforts to stay in the present moment, his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/n, making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything else.

Willy had only heard about the phenomenon of women releasing blood in passing but had never lived with a young woman for enough time to witness it firsthand. As he pondered why he had never asked his late mother about it, his thoughts were interrupted by the realization that he was barely ten years or so when he had last seen her. Even if he had spent every day with her, it was improbable that he would have noticed anything, especially if she had been adept at keeping things tidy and out of sight.

A gruff voice brought him back to reality,"'ey where's the girl?" Willy shifted his attention back to his current whereabouts. He'd somehow managed to get in line for roll call without even realizing he'd left the stairwell. Shaking himself out of his daze, he wondered for a moment who Bleacher was referring to.

"Where's the who?" Willy asked, genuinely confused.

"L/n!" Now, that was a name he recognized.

Before he could respond, he was interrupted by the pat-pattering of footsteps and a wayward, "I'm here!" He turned to the flustered girl in question. She was panting laboriously as she shuffled beside him. He gently laid an arm on her back, but she stepped away warily. He couldn't help but wonder whether it was something he did that made her uncomfortable. If so, he'd do just about anything to make amends with the lovely woman.