36. Yoghurt:
His sneering lips full of complaints and retorts were rewarded with a mouthful of a strange, white substance as a result of her waning patience.
Like she's promised, it wasn't sweet like he'd previously assumed. Sour, like curdled milk, but creamier somehow. Spoon still dangling from between his sharp teeth, he gave her a look, dubious of her actually choosing to eat this on her own.
She sighed, the way she set her mouth a testament that she'd been caught. She took the spoon from him, albeit rougher than was necessary, and dug out another scoop, this time taking an extra step and dabbing the loaded utensil into the adjoining compartment.
Again she offered it to him, and with a heave he lunged in to accept his spoonful. He came up a moment later, sputtering, tongue working to rid his mouth of the sweetness he'd just been fed.
"Honey. Knew you couldn't take that stuff unsweetened, fucking sugar queen."