Levi lets the kiss linger a little, then, focusing on the warmth beneath his hands. Finnick is here, alive and recovering, and he feels a little more of that worry ebb away.

"Mm," he hums in response, leaving just one more brush of lips before leaning away to look at him again. His color is better, eyes brighter, and it's hard not to lean in and continue kissing him. The drain on his energy will start to catch up in the next few minutes, and there are a few other things he wants to do before that happens.

"Can get you out of that sling, probably, and get rid of those rags and cleaned up a bit," he says eyeing the shirt. It definitely needs to go, if nothing else. Levi pulls a familiar knife from his boot and starts to cut carefully at the vines binding Finnick's arm, well mindful of the blade. It'll only take a few slices before it starts to easily come away, and he sets it aside before starting to go for the remains of the younger man's shirt, tugging it enough to get at the hem without jostling him too much in case there's still pain in his ribs. Unless Finnick protests losing it (not that there is much to worry about, at this point), he'll cut up the center and at the shoulders and along the sleeves, exposing tanned skin and the planes of his chest.

Levi's scanning for any other injuries...and maybe just admiring him at the same time, too.