She frowned, looking down at the bedsheets. "I don't know. I mean... I keep getting into this situation where you do these things and make these decisions for me and I'm sitting here wondering why you don't seem to trust me with important choices."
"I do trust you with important decisions, it's just.. I was really worried about your health. I know that's no excuse, but that's my reasom for doing it."
"How would you feel," she said quietly, "if I was slipping pills in your coffee to stop you from smoking? Worse yet, the pills would make you go unconscious, so you'd be completely immobilized. I care about your health too, Francis, but I'd never do that to you."
"You stopping me from smoking isn't as bad as what I did to you.. I don't know. I just thought maybe you weren't thinking straight because you hadn't been sleeping much or because you were afraid."
This answer seemed to irritate her, her brows furrowing. "Francis, even if you thought I wasn't thinking straight, that still doesn't give you the right to drug me! You... God. You can't just steamroller over everyone else's thoughts just because you think you know better."
