She drank it unwilling and, turning her face away said, "I don't like it though."

He chided, and, being as patient as he could be, said, "Drink up."

"It tastes nasty."

"You'll get used to it."

"But I don't want to."

"Do you want to disappoint me?"

She hesitated there, caught between a rock and a hard place, "No."

"Then drink up."

Her heart may have been his but she cursed him as she downed the squirming mass that posed as liquid in her cup. Damned him to his very soul. Surely, there must have been someone who could hear.