"Why are you not eating?" I asked her coldly. I won't tolerate her irrational behavior, she needed to take care of herself.
"I-I do not feel like eating..." She whispered, twirling the fork alongside the pasta. Everyone was busy in small talks and didn't pay any attention to us.
"Valenie, please. I don't want to force it down your throat." I whispered back, hence she gets scared of the unleashed anger in my tone.
She sighed and shook her head. "I don't feel like eating this." She almost cried throwing daggers at the poor plate of food.
"What do you want to eat? I'll ask the chef to prepare it for you." I tried to pacify her.
She again shook her head stubbornly and I sighed through my gritted teeth.
"Valenie if you won't tell me how am I supposed to know what do you want to eat?
