Maxixe was tired of being sick and here was Aiden hovering and fussing over him like a little old lady.
Now his cousin was in the process of horse feeding him, shoveling down thick gruel.
A mix of honeyed oats and warm milk down his throat, it tasted bland to him and he wondered if his cousin ever heard of sugar.
There wasn't much to chew but after a few mouthfuls he had reached his limit and didn't want any more.
Maxixe grumbled, "I didn't escape from prison to have you send me to an early grave, forcing food down my throat won't make me heal any faster."
Simply put, he would much rather be feeding himself than be spoon fed by his cousin like a newborn baby fresh off mother's milk.
The fact that he couldn't even use the toilet on his own was making him miserable and he saw sickness as a handicap delaying his life.
Still he didn't know how to feel about the doctor's assistant giving up his life to save his, shouldn't he feel grateful.
