[ For what it's worth, as the flames envelope the stem, Mizuki puts both of his arms around Elsword, combing his hair with one hand, and squeezing him loose enough to not hurt, but tight enough to make Elsword feel secured with all his tendrils that stayed coiled around him. Sorry about the slime bath, Elsword. Mizuki presses his forehead to Elsword's. A dangerous position, maybe. If they were more romantically inclined, Mizuki might very well want to comfort him with a gentle kiss, but he knows better. He wouldn't do that again. ]

Would rather worry about you and help out than have you suffer to yourself, Elsword. You're important to me. I'll help however I can — and I'll keep the pieces you lose so you're with me forever, okay?

[ What he is going to do, though, is shift himself to drag his tongue over the blood that spilled out along his cheek. No regard for it being unsanitary — why would he need to worry about that? ]