“I am so sick of vitamin c.” He griped, rolling over on the couch and kicking vaguely at the empty orange juice carton on the arm. “I never want to taste citrus again.” He declaredly before launching into a sneezing fit that sent tissues flying off his lap.
“I’m sure you don’t. But you told me to get you back on your feet, no matter what. So your protests have been noted, and then ignored.” She handed him the blue solo cup, “Drink up.”
“I hate you for listening to my hyperbole and taking it to heart.” He took a big gulp and then made a face. When he looked up at her and saw her scowl he sighed. “And of course I love you for being concerned about my health and wanting me to be better.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” She sighed, staring pointedly at the cup until he took another sip.
He took a few more sips of the drink before he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “You put something in this.”
“Just an antihistamine. To dry you out a little. To help you sleep.” She shrugged.
He glanced wearily from the cup back to her, then back to the cup. But then he swallowed the rest of it down in one gulp. “Goodnight. And no more citrus when I wake up.”
He heard something like “Hm, we’ll see” as he faded off to sleep.