The days continued to pass, and Ryan still came to see Eric every day.
Without fail, he would bring his medicine, make sure Eric drank every last drop of the bitter liquid, and then hand him something sweet afterward to chase away the awful taste. At first, Eric had still been slightly bothered by Ryan's answer.
But he was not the sort of person who could remain gloomy for very long, especially when delicious food was involved.
Whatever disappointment he had felt was quickly forgotten the moment the man started bringing him different dishes every day.
He ate the delicate pastries, the sweet fruits, the soft meats, the warm soups, and anything else Ryan brought, completely abandoning whatever sulking mood he had been in. By the end of every meal, his expression would be satisfied enough to make it obvious that food had once again become more important than his previous complaints.
