It made him feel a little uncomfortable hearing it, even after the numerous other things she had said to him beforehand. Normally it would've been enough to just stop her there and set things straight before continuing. But between the alcohol and his actual desire to keep going, Michel rationalized his own actions as an acceptance of her affection rather than a reciprocation. He was just being nice to her for once, and he owed her no explanation or reply. Why she apparently loved him was still beyond him anyway. Even from his perspective he wouldn't have called it healthy. Perhaps it was just the alcohol talking for her, too. At least that made the most sense. He knew better.
Still, Michel didn't even particularly mind how she was being slightly rough during their kiss, enjoying the warmth of her lips but also cracking just as much of a smile as she pulled away in a manner that wasn't exactly gentle. His own hands had moved firmly to her hips, ready to kiss her again and lift her onto his desk if that's how things were going to be. Unfortunately his plans were foiled very quickly by her swift attack.
He didn't let go immediately, but that was because he didn't immediately pick up on what had just happened. Shocked, he froze for just a slight moment. It had gone from her, to something else for just a second, then red, then nothing at all. He could still see her, but something was wrong. The pain that swelled around the area quickly after it had happened, though, was enough for him to push her off, stumbling back himself a bit in the process. He desperately reached for his eye to figure out what the problem was only to find that there wasn't really an eye there to be reaching for any more. There was just the blood to feel on his hands.
"What the hell did you do?!" He shouted, looking back up at her with the eye that was still there. He wasn't sure what else to say, as it was too sudden and baffling for even him. Thank goodness the old woman downstairs was deaf. Not that it would've made a difference to him.