Misha was damn glad he wasn't actually doing magic in that moment, because if he had been it would have gone very wrong. He wasn't expecting Bella to crack the joke he did and he burst out laughing.
"Jeez, whoever thinks you're all innocent hasn't heard the stuff that comes out of your mouth," Misha said, as he picked up his wand from the table.
"Now just stay still."
He focussed carefully on the cut on Bella's cheek, his voice whispering the spell in hushed, solemn tones. It sounded almost like a chant. He could see the skin slowly start to knit back together, stopping any more blood from seeping to the surface. It wasn't much but it would be the difference between her having a scar or not.