He didn't know how to explain it, though his anger burned hot, in his eyes, just for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was back to neutral.
"You know you like wine. I was fed intravenously for most of seventy years." His shoulders rose, and dropped. "Maybe it's a misguided notion. You'd know better."
no subject
"You know you like wine. I was fed intravenously for most of seventy years." His shoulders rose, and dropped. "Maybe it's a misguided notion. You'd know better."