"Nick, say 'Mommy.'"
Before Viola Harris could react, Jonathan Wilson sweetly called out, "Mommy." He opened his arms wide for a hug, "Mommy hug."
Viola instinctively stepped back, "Who's gonna hug you——"
Before she finished her sentence, Finn Wilson pushed Jonathan into her arms, "Nick likes you."
The little guy's body was impossibly soft, carrying a faint milky scent, smelling very comforting.
Viola wasn't inexperienced at holding kids; Amelia Clarke's three children were a breeze for her to carry, but this one left her feeling a bit flustered. She hesitated for a moment, pinching the little guy's shoulders, and pushed him back into Finn's arms.
Jonathan pouted and was about to cry, "Mommy..."
"I'm not your mommy." Viola glared irritably at the teary little guy.
Why were this father and son so cheeky? She definitely didn't have such a big son, especially not a child of her enemy.
"Boo hoo... Mommy, Nick is being good... boo hoo... Nick is being good..."
