He could handle being maimed. The issue of it being someone he supposed he trusted and didn't necessarily dislike (despite his constant denial) bothered him more than anything. If it were anyone else he really would have just fought back and did away with them. Everyone else was that expendable. He supposed he still had that opportunity with her as she was right there. If he was going to take revenge, then it was the perfect time to do it. In fact, he wasn't really sure quite what it was that was keeping him from tying something around her neck and hanging her out his window. Or stabbing her to death and dumping her body in the alley. He was definitely imagining that much.
Perhaps it was just that he didn't really want to get up still. He was rather comfortable finally. "You should leave," he repeated, rolling his eye and mimicking her tone, but obviously failing at it for something more mocking. Michel would've preferred her out, but he wasn't going to fight the issue right away. It was curious enough that she had brought soup with her. Even if it was some sort of apology and he actually was hungry, he wasn't ready to accept anything from her again. Not just yet.
"Oh, and you love me, so it's poisoned anyway. Right?" The man was immediately criticizing, making his lack of trust clear. He shook his head in further refusal, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.