The man glanced in her direction, cringing suddenly as the object was placed in front of him. He couldn't escape it, not this time. The smell lingered purposely around him, gagging him.

Coffee. Goddamn coffee.

He looked at it dead on. It disgusted him with its creamy whites and dirt browns; oh, and he particularly hated the taste. The taste was the worst thing. It left a disgusting, bitter feeling in his mouth that made him want to inappropriately spit it back in the mug and send it back to the espresso machine; he wanted to beg the machine to accept the saliva-filled mixture, to get it out of his sight.

She giggled behind her cup and looked at him softly, only her eyes were visible above the pure-white rim. This spiteful beverage was a treasure hunt that she was eager to follow. Whether it was the mud-like consistency of the Turkish coffees or the foam-coated lattes of Germany, she loved them all. It was the addiction; she was the willing participant.

And he had unfortunately been dragged along to every one of these stops of coffee-hell.

"Try it," she coaxed. "A little sip. You might actually find you like this espresso."

"Just like I enjoyed the taste of all the lattes and cappuccinos and - what are they called? Ah, yes, those despicable macchiatos." He winked, a grin breaking through his faux grimace.

She stuck her tongue out in a very unlady-like manner and laughed in an ever-so-elegant way that managed to catch the attention of those outside the cafe. Romans and tourists alike glanced at them: those subtle glances that were always delivered with a knowing twinkle in the eye and a subtle smile on the lips; although the man and the woman were well aware of the reactions of others, they had yet to notice the attention surrounding them.

She smiled at him and glanced down at his order before meeting his eyes once more. He knew he couldn't bare the taste of any coffee and he knew he couldn't deny her request. With valiant effort he took the steaming mug in his hands and drank.

"That," He swallowed dramatically. "Was absolutely horrific."

The cup sat haphazardly on the saucer, a drip of brownish liquid rolled quietly down the side. His fingers drummed the handle slowly and he contemplated, once again, how she managed to convince him into consuming this "drink". It was a game, really; she would order two of whatever coffee she pleased, he would have a little sip and declare how gross it is, and then she would swoop in and take the remainder of his.
Her snort echoed her in mug as she tried to contain her laughter. "Okay, okay, hand it over," she said, still giggling. That giggled transformed into full-out laughter as he pushed the coffee away with just one finger pressed slightly on the saucer; his face a mask of pure distaste.

"You know," she tried to say between breaths. "It's not gonna kill you."

He only shook his head and wondered how she could enjoy such disgusting things.