xXxInvisible in your eyesxXx- YAAAAAAAAAAY! I got a review! Mmm...TASTY!

Fala Delacroix-To tell ya truth... I was afraid to share it! I thought it would suck and people would flame me...but i was like "ah, fck it" and here i am now! Getting great reviews frm people like you!

SheScreamsInSilence- I'm also in love it! But it's all mine! MWAHAHAHAHAHA! (cough) Jk!We can share...for now...!

This is another sappy chapter...sort of...the next one is soaked so this is like a preview of it! Hope you like!


Chapter 8: Different

I felt rubber clad fingers tap on my shoulder. I look around into amethyst eyes. He has a warm smile on his lips. "Hey, Willy!"

"Hey! I'm happy to . . . hmm . . ." He reaches inside his tailcoat, and pulls out a little deck of cards. He reads from on card: "I'm happy you could come to my humble factory. I shake you warmly by the hand." He sticks out his hand. I giggle, and gladly shake it. I could feel his warmth through the gloves.

"You didn't just read from those stupid cards, did you?" Charlie asked as he put Emmy back down firmly onto the ground. "I couldn't remember my lines!" Willy answered back while pouting.

"I'm your friend, Willy. Not a visitor. I'm living in the factory! I don't need a planned welcome. Be spontaneous, and say whatever comes to your mind," I say in a friendly tone. He gives a little smile, giggles, and looks down. I think he's trying to hide his blushing cheeks with his chin-length hair.

"Well, c'mon! I want to see the factory!" Emmy said as she looked towards the entrance. "Let's hurry up so Mr. Wonka doesn't try to show you the puppet welcome song."

"I like the puppet Wonka's Welcome Song!"

"Oh yeah . . . Especially when they catch on fire!" Charlie said smartly. Willy stuck out his tongue at him. "Boys . . . behave," I playfully warn. We all smile and walk inside the factory. The warmth almost knocked me off my feet.

"Wow! It's like India in here!" I hear Emmy exclaim. I nod in agreement. "It is kind of warm in here, but I'm not complaining!"

"It has to be warm in here. The Oompa Loompas can't stand the cold," Charlie answered matter-of-factly. Emmy and I looked at each other. "Oompa wha?" Emmy whispered. I shrugged my shoulders and looked around my new surroundings. It looks like the worship room in my Old Catholic church if it was empty. The room was a silvery color with big windows along the right sidewall. The roof was so high that I could barely see it. There was a red carpet lining the floor. It looked like a runway, because it was leading down the room . . . in fact, the room looked more like a hallway than a room.

"Do you want to see your rooms?" I hear Willy's slightly childish voice ask. I look around to see that he was watching me while I surveyed the room. "Yes, please." He nodded and began to walk down the long hallway. We followed close behind with our suitcases in hand, waiting to be unpacked in out new home.

"As soon as I got home last night, I ordered some of the Oompa Loompas to set up two of the guestrooms. I hope they're just as welcoming as The Red Rat was," Willy explained. He stopped in front of a door in between two of the windows on the right side if the wall. "Emmy, this is your room." He opened the door, and Emmy gasped.

The room was light indigo . . . Emmy's favorite color. I hear Emmy's suitcase drop to the ground with a sharp thump. She walks in with a hypnotic look upon her face. "It's great! How did you know indigo was my favorite color?" She looked at Willy, who was smiling broadly.

"I kind of guessed. You we're using your indigo crayon a lot when you were coloring yesterday. So, I gave you this room!" He looked down. "Do you think it will suffice you?"

"Duh! Of course! You even have a little toy chest!" She runs over to a big indigo chest that's overflowing with toys. Charlie walks in with Emmy's suitcase in hand. "You go ahead and show Aunt Bianca her room. I'll help Emmy unpack."

I smile and look at Willy. He was staring at Charlie in a weird way. It doesn't seem to fit his face. It looks like anger . . . or as my father calls it . . . The Evil Eye . . . I would always give Arlene the Evil Eye whenever she'd try to get me in trouble with my parents by giving little hints of my bad deeds . . . like sneaking out of the house at night. It seems like Charlie has something up his sleeve . . .

"That would be lovely," I say sweetly. Willy looks at me, and I give my best, flawless smile. He sighs and says, "All right . . . After you're done helping her show her where your house is at in the Chocolate Room."

"Will do," Charlie answers back as he unzipped Emmy's suitcase. "Well . . . Let's go to your room," Willy says quietly. I follow him a little bit more down the hallway until he stops in front of a door on the left side of the wall. "Your room is right across from mine." He opens the door. I look in and feel my chin drop. The room was a brilliant blue. The roof was painted like a nighttime sky, complete with stars, and a full moon. There was a vanity in the corner, and a closet next to it. I walk in to get a closer look. The bed matched the roof. It's covers were dark blue, almost black, with stars all over it. There was a bathroom to the right of the bed. The porcelain was also the blue that matched the bedroom. I cover my mouth with my hand. "Oh, my God . . ." I was too speechless to continue.

"Do you like it? I gave you this room because the blue reminded me of your eyes. And the roof matches the sky we were observing yesterday," Willy said innocently.

I look back at him. He was still standing at the doorway. Without another coherent thought, I dropped my suitcase, and rushed over to Willy to give him a big hug. I wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him close. I feel Willy tense up for a second. I begin to pull away until I feel Willy's hands upon my back. His nose pokes my neck, and my skin begins to grow hot. That's the first time we actually felt each other's skin. I breathe in deeply, and catch a whiff of Willy's scent. Chocolate, of course, but a surprising mix of some spicy scent . . . and maybe perhaps a hint of sandalwood. I feel the butterflies in my stomach flap their wings, and I bite back a moan.

"You're welcome," I hear Willy sat softly. I felt his lips barely graze the sensitive skin of my neck. It was too much. I pull back from the embrace. I want to stay in it for an eternity. Willy's eyes were glowing. "It's wonderful. C'mon . . . Help me unpack."

We took out all of my belongings, and started putting them in their proper place (me putting my underwear in the chest of drawers of course). We had a simple chat about things in the process. Towards the end, it was about my unusual attire.

"Why are you wearing stockings?" Willy asked curiously.

"Well, I didn't feel like wearing pants, but I didn't want my legs to get cold. So, I wore these."

"I thought you said the cold never bothered you."

"It doesn't bother me when I feel like it!" I retort before I stuck my tongue out at him.

"That's silly!"

"Oh, really? What about your clothes, hmm? I don't see many people wearing top hats, rubber gloves, and a maroon coat!"

"I like to be different. As for the gloves . . . it's for sanitary reasons."

"Even when you go out?"

"Well, I'm also sort of scared to come in contact with other things." I could tell he felt uncomfortable about this, so I changed the subject. "You have a very strange hair cut."

"I do not!" I laugh at his out burst. Willy pulls an annoyed look, but playfully asks, "What about your hair? I didn't think people your age wear something childish like pigtails!"

"It was Emmy's idea. It's funny . . . You'd expect me to be dressed in the white dress, and her in a skirt with stripped stockings. Instead, she dresses like an adult, and I dress like a child. It's just like you said . . . I like to be different, so I choose to be different by the clothes I wear."

"I understand," he answered. He was looking at me with a serious look upon his face. It wasn't until I noticed he was staring at my exposed shoulder with a white scar across the top. I clear my throat, and covered it in a casual looking way. He looked at me for a split second, and then he looked at the ground. He sighed and resumed putting up my books.


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