Omigoshomigoshomigosh… Veronica's mind was racing. It was something that Willy Wonka NEVER did. Even still, after all the progress he had made, both with his father and with her, never had she even seen him take off his gloves. She knew he slept without them, but that was obvious. This, however, had taken her completely and utterly by surprise. She was shaking, her hands were shaking, and her very insides were shaking. He had dared share with her the most precious gift he had to give… his trust, himself. More precious than all the candy that would come out of this building in his lifetime, this was. Veronica dearly wished she would never have to wash her hands again. However, she knew that if she was to accompany him to make more candy tomorrow… But then her heart sank. She had accomplished her purpose. She had helped him invent just one new kind of candy, and he had taken and perfected it. Her job was done, and now she would have to go home. Face her small, empty flat for days at a time. There was nothing for her to do at home but clean, and order Chinese take-out for dinner. She was unemployed, couldn't cook, and for the first time in her life, she didn't want to stay in that little house alone. But she couldn't take advantage of Mr. Wonka's hospitality, and she knew that. Besides, he seemed so much happier now than on her previous visits. And she was sure it wasn't the shallow cheer that he wore to discourage people from worrying, ergo caring for him. But he was happy. Really happy, and that made Veronica feel better. If she left, she might be miserable, but at least she was leaving him in better shape than when she came.
She was leaving tomorrow. She couldn't leave tomorrow. He'd have to convince her to stay, play the pitiful lonely chocolatier card and then maybe she would believe him. Believe he needed her to stay. The truth was, Willy Wonka himself believed he needed her to stay. Look at all the good she had done around here! He had gone from being dreadfully behind schedule to just slightly behind schedule, and he was almost always just slightly behind schedule, so that was just peachy as far as he was concerned. But how to convince her? Wonka thought for awhile. Fall down on his knees and proclaim his everlasting devotion? Nah, too overdone. Sweep her off her feet with a kiss that, were this a movie, would make all the drooling fangirls green with envy? Yuck! That was just disgusting! But what? What could he do that he hadn't already done? And then it struck him that perhaps what he had already done was all he needed to do. Maybe he would wake her up tomorrow and she would beg him to let her stay on and learn the secrets of candymaking… or something like that. And even if she didn't, he was sure he could convince her that it was a very lucrative opportunity. Yes, that was it. He would take his cues from her come tomorrow morning, even if that meant she, being eager to go home and leave this life of madness, would never come see him again. He sighed. He hated when life left him with his best option being a choice like this.
At length, he looked down at his hands. He, seeing no sense in putting on a pair of gloves just to take them off again when he got to bed, found himself looking at bare flesh, something he never really saw any of… But that was a thought for another time. His hands were very pale, very smooth, and very childlike, having been protected from the everyday elements for so long. In fact, it was almost surprising to him to discover that his hands weren't truly purple after all. He smiled at the thought. Of course, if everyone's hands were purple, they would clash horribly with peoples' clothing. Not everybody had the impeccable fashion sense that he had… But he was rapidly getting off topic. He reined in his thoughts a bit, and they settled on that evening. He saw Veronica's eyes sparkling in the candlelight. He desperately wished they would have found something to talk about at dinner, but talking when one is eating is a rather vulgar habit anyway… Still, it would have taken the edge off, and he wouldn't have been so nervous. He had never been that nervous around Veronica before. In fact, he had never been that nervous around a girl before… unless you counted Mrs. Beauregarde when he had told them about chocolate and endorphins… but she was beastly. Once again he reined in his thoughts; he seemed to have to do that a lot more lately. Usually he just let them roam wherever they wanted to go, but as of late, they had been venturing into far off dusty corners of his mind, and what he found there was rarely pleasant.
"Veronica…" He mumbled, attempting to keep himself on track. Ahh, yes, Veronica. He had been very nervous that evening. Especially in those moments just before… Well, he had been planning some nice way to wish her a happy Valentine's Day for days, but when it came to the moment, none of the options he had given himself had seemed adequate enough. So he came up with one on the fly. He decided he quite liked that one, in hindsight. Yes, the evening had gone swimmingly, when you looked at it like this. But one thing puzzled Mr. Wonka. Was human contact always like that? He could remember the jolt, energy passing between two people, and the resonation that followed, burrowing its way all the way into his heart. It was… strange but not unpleasant. He wondered if it was always like that. Part of him was curious to find out, but part of him still hoped he'd never have to. After all, the only person you can trust in this world is yourself…
"Stop it." He mumbled into the darkness. But the thought circulated a few more times in his mind before fading away. Eventually he fell asleep, purple comforter tucked around his chin. Even after three days, it still bore some strange quality… He noticed the difference on the first night he slept under it again, after stealing it back from Veronica. He couldn't put his purple gloved finger on it then, but something was different about it. He had first discovered this in the elevator, when he was holding it at arm's length, to be taken and washed. Something made him change his mind. Now as he dozed, burying his face in it, he inhaled deeply. It was more comforting now. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't wear off anytime soon.