"Come on, try it."
"No, it's disgusting."
"No it isn't. How could you know if it is, if you didn't try it?"
Garrus regarded the plate in front of him with a certain dose of uncertainty. On a thin layer of fried batter, rested something all too reminiscent of varren shit, drizzled with chocolate and whipped cream.
He lifted his gaze from the plate, trying, and failing miserably, to communicate his discomfort to Shepard. She wasn't getting any of that, apparently. Her eyes were steel cold and her jaw was set in that "don't fuck with me, mister" angle.
"Dammit, Garrus. You wanted me to cook for you. Here it is. Eat it or you'll be back in the main battery for tonight."
His jaw clenched, he lifted the cutlery.
He cut a piece of the unappetizing food and as fast as he could, stuffed it into his mouth.
Oh Spirits, let this be over soon, let this be... What.
His eyes widened in shock when he felt the food assault his tastebuds. The softest, delicate crepe held inside the most delicious combination of sweet, smooth chocolate, sour tang of blueberries and a light cloud of whipped cream.
"Mmmm!" he involuntary purred.
Shepard's expression immediately changed, brightening with a wide, pleased smile.
"You know, sunshine," he said halfway through devouring the crepe, "I wasn't sure how I'd like this-"
"Oh, please," Shepard said and kissed his scarred cheek. "You were sure you'll hate it."
"You're right," he laughed. "But now, I think I love it more than I should."