Where does the chocolate espresso go?

"So, I'm sure you have some questions," he said, lifting up his small cup, and sipping demurely from a double shot dark chocolate espresso.

"Yeah a few I suppose," I acquiesced, distrust clear on my face. Not that I could hide anything when my pulse and highly advanced sensors gave me away. I wasn't entirely sure how much that scared me. "First off--" besides where exactly does a coffee go when an android has no stomach.

"Why was I born? Why do I feel these things, that I'm not supposed to feel? Can you tell me?"

"Anything sweetheart," he said. My creator held my hand. He was what humans would call a dork with wide bright eyes, glasses, and messy curls. He'd been just as surprised and had quite a few questions when he found his old prototype, deemed defective, on a dating site of all places.