Healing past hurts.....
Who: Willy Wonka makerofimage and ANYONE
When: Saturday Morning
Where: Biodome
Summary: Willy knows what tomorrow is and he's caught in the cusp of letting the day pass without doing anything to care or doing something to show those he is close to that he cares.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Most likely just a frantic and stricken Wonka that has never done anything for anyone on Valentine's Day since grade school.
Papers of many colors are sprawled out. He had so much on his mind that he couldn't think straight and one issue rang the clearest. He wanted to do something but his creativity was halted. His expression was blank but instead of staring blankly, he looked for inspiration inside the dome.
There were no birds. No natural sounds other than the water flowing and even then it seemed artificial to him. He gathered the papers and put them in a neat pile and pulled out his notbook and pen. He started to write something but stopped. Only two words came to mind and he couldn't write them down.
"It seems....I lost my muse," he said with a sigh. This was the first time since the day that Charlie turned down his offer that he ever felt so empty. He almost felt certain that he lost his chance with anyone and one person in particular rang clear in his mind. Getting him to admit it was going to be much harder than pulling teeth from a crocodile. Harder still was getting himself to act.
When: Saturday Morning
Where: Biodome
Summary: Willy knows what tomorrow is and he's caught in the cusp of letting the day pass without doing anything to care or doing something to show those he is close to that he cares.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Most likely just a frantic and stricken Wonka that has never done anything for anyone on Valentine's Day since grade school.
Papers of many colors are sprawled out. He had so much on his mind that he couldn't think straight and one issue rang the clearest. He wanted to do something but his creativity was halted. His expression was blank but instead of staring blankly, he looked for inspiration inside the dome.
There were no birds. No natural sounds other than the water flowing and even then it seemed artificial to him. He gathered the papers and put them in a neat pile and pulled out his notbook and pen. He started to write something but stopped. Only two words came to mind and he couldn't write them down.
"It seems....I lost my muse," he said with a sigh. This was the first time since the day that Charlie turned down his offer that he ever felt so empty. He almost felt certain that he lost his chance with anyone and one person in particular rang clear in his mind. Getting him to admit it was going to be much harder than pulling teeth from a crocodile. Harder still was getting himself to act.