Nine year old Jerome Clarke was alone. A storm was raging outside and he was lay in his bed. He longed for his mother, but she'd never let anyone know the house number. He slipped out of his bed and padded along the cold floor to the housekeeper's room.
He slowly pushed open the door, to find her awake and reading. He scrambled in, to her surprise. She looked at him.
"I thought you were asleep, my lovely." Trudy spoke with surprise.
Jerome said "I'm sorry, I was scared." He told her.
Trudy scooped him up and put him under her duvet. "You stay here, with me. I'll keep you safe."
Jerome snuggled up to her and wrapped his arms around her sides. She lay down and held him close to her. Jerome snuggled up to her and fell asleep.
Trudy sighed happily. She loved the small blond boy who was happily cuddling her.
"My baby boy." She murmured, cuddling him.
They snuggled throughout the night. Trudy loved having a little child to cuddle. She knew one day he wouldn't want to hug her like that. And she would miss it. So she savoured every single moment she had with him.
He was her child, as far as she was concerned. A mother was always happy with her child. And who said that she'd never had her own child?
And there's another random oneshot from my crazy mind. Until next time, BlackCat46.