#oompa loompa

"Who is she?" you asked, nodding at the doll.

He finally turned his head, and the sight made your heart fall. Willy's eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and boyish wonder, were swollen from crying.

"This…this is Wooly," he whispered, his voice cracking. "My mother made her for me. She was a dentist. Terribly boring, but she made wonderful things."

He fell silent, his gaze distant, lost in a memory you couldn't see.

"She had a…a tumor in her brain. I was four. I don't remember much. Not her voice nor her face. It's all blurry," He looked at you then, his eyes pleading for understanding. "But I remember her hands, sewing the ears and eyes. She told me Wooly would keep me safe when she couldn't."

A fresh wave of tears streamed down his face, and he buried his face in the sheep's body. You moved without thinking. You sat down on the edge of the ottoman, close enough that your shoulders were nearly touching.

He stiffened at your proximity, a lifetime of solitude making him wary of touch, but when you didn't move further, he slowly began to relax. After a long moment, you tentatively reached out and placed a hand on his trembling back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

He didn't pull away. Instead, a choked sob escaped him, and he leaned into your touch just slightly.

"It's not fair," he whispered against the sheep. "I have everything. I have the world's most amazing factory, I have chocolate that can do anything, but I can't…I can't remember her smile."

"You don't have to remember everything clearly for the love to be real, Willy." you said softly, continuing to rub his back.

“But what if…” his voice cracked, fingers tightening around the worn fabric of Wooly, “what if I forget her completely one day? What if she just—” he gestured weakly, like something slipping through his grasp, “—disappears and I'm left wondering if anything was even real?”

You exhaled quietly, your hand never stopping its slow, grounding motion against his back. “Then you hold onto something that is tangible. You said she made Wooly for you. She told you it'd keep you safe.”

A small pause.

“And look at you, Willy. You are safe. You grew up. You built something incredible. You made a place that brings people joy, that makes kids feel like magic is real. She may not be here, and maybe your memories of her aren’t as clear as you wish they were, but her impact is everywhere around you."

Willy sniffed, dragging the sleeve of his shirt across his face in a half hearted attempt to compose himself. It didn’t work very well. His eyes were still red, lashes damp, hair falling messily into his face.

“…I don’t feel very magical right now.” he admitted quietly.

“Yeah, well, even geniuses who build candy empires are allowed to have bad days.” That earned the faintest twitch of his lips.