As much as Michel would've liked to think he learned about her, he still didn't seem to really understand her. She was fairly contradictory. While he understood the two sides of where she was coming from well enough, or at least he liked to think he understood, she was coming from two sides. First she tells him to not show up and then she... flirts? Maybe? He wasn't really sure if that was the word for it. If she was trying to confuse him, it was working. However, after thinking it over, two could play at that game. He would take his chances.
"Never." His answer was blunt, but solid. In actuality he certainly hadn't forgotten, even if he hadn't really allowed himself to give it too much thought. However, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing he had contemplated it even a little. He took another step forward and leaned over just long enough to whisper at her level. It wouldn't have been too much of an inappropriate gesture to onlookers. They could've very well been discussing art in a politely quiet manner. "Though I gave your fingers to the cat that lives out my window. She seemed disappointed that there wasn't any more."