"Aryan, are you going to take it or not?" Marco stood with a pill in one hand and a glass of water in the other, his tone serious after fifteen exhausting minutes of chasing Aryan around. Aryan, still sniffling, refused to take the medicine—purely because Marco had teased him.
"No," Aryan said firmly, trying to suppress another sneeze.
Marco sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry. I take back what I said, alright?"Seeing Aryan stubbornly suffer made Marco upset. "Maybe you don't care, but I hate seeing you sick."
"Isn't that just because you don't want to take care of me?" Aryan shot back.
Without warning, Marco lightly smacked his head. "Ouch—hey!" Aryan yelped, only for Marco to use the moment to pop the pill into his mouth and tip the glass of water to his lips.
Caught off guard, Aryan gulped it down. The bitter taste hit instantly, making him grimace.
Marco couldn't help but laugh. "Taking care of a kid would be easier than looking after you."
