GLOVES
willy wonka studied his hands late one night. or rather, his violet gloves. He hated those gloves, hated them with a passion, but he only took them off when he slept. willy had never had a crush, never been kissed, never taken a lover. The gloves were a refuge to him. they were a barrier, a way to shut anyone who might hurt him out.if anyone could see his hands, they could and would hurt him. He had never before wanted to remove the gloves, never wanted to bare his soul to another person...not untill now. he got up...crossed the room, and stood, looking out his window over the chocolate room. charlie laid on the delectable meadow of suger grass, staring up at the twinkling sugar stars.Charlie, now twenty one, was nothing cshort of breathtaking to willy. slowly, willy pulled off the gloves, the only barrier between him and the world, and touched the cool glass of the window. and, for the first time, he actually felt it. a realization flooded through him like the chocolate river overflowing its banks, his heart filled, then overflowed, as tears flooded down his smooth cheeks. reaching for his slippers, he grasped the doorknob, and stepped into the hall. he would go to Charlie, tell him everything he hadn't before now. he would tell him he loved him.
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Charlie lay on the sweet smelling grass, thinking about willys hands. or, rather, his violet gloves. he loved wonkas hands more than wonka knew, and wondered why he kept them covered by gloves...suddenly, he heard a voice sweeter than chocolate, and smoother than whipped cream whisper his name...
*finite*
its my first fic, please be nice.the capitilazation needs some work, but i hope to improve...please reveiw?
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