"Well," he mutters, continuing his work, "the universe will just have to sit the fuck down, if I have anything to say about it."

The shadows of wounds left behind by the dragon's teeth leave little to the imagination of how dire Finnick's condition really was. Dark brows draw a little closer together as Levi lightly traces around pink, healed puncture wounds, still green and yellow and some darker bruising around the edges. A little flow of warmth eases into the flesh around them, trying to help a little with the pain, although he can't do much more at this point. He can't help but think about what Finnick said about having his scars erased, the proof of what he'd endured taken without his consent. ...he'll have plenty, now, but it doesn't feel like anything to celebrate.

At least Finnick seems to be in recovering spirits. Levi flicks him a look that could arguably be called smoldering, a nearly imperceptible curve at one corner of his lips.

"Doin' my best, here," he says solemnly, shifting instead to slide his palm meanderingly over Finnick's stomach, then up his chest, pressing over his heart. "S'pose you can't help being easy to look at..."

Levi leans in closer, slowly, almost like he's about to give him another kiss...

...and stops a few inches away. "Where's the sink, pretty boy?"