There's at least the quietest 'hey' as he's spun around and an obligator grumble as she moms over him with the handkerchief, but it's all soft and not as serious as it would be had she been just about anyone else. She does get a chuckle from him when she starts looking over the spreading scars.

"Yeah well you were always the looker in the group. It's fine, trust me...it's better than I could be looking right now." He doesn't want to tell her about how he had essentially burnt the skin from his flesh while fighting his family. At least not right now, it could wait a while still. He raises a hand to catch her own, pulling it away from his face and just holding it in both of his much warmer ones. She's warm and solid, she's alive. Not a splattered mess in some abandoned warehouse. Not ashes spread in a pretty flower garden. She was more than just alive, she was thriving. She was living the life they had all wanted back home.

"I-" His voice catches, deep and scratchy as always, before he clears his throat. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. It should have been me attacking him..." Maybe if he had been there, if he had been protecting their little group with his flames, maybe then Magne wouldn't have died and Compress wouldn't have lost an arm. It wouldn't have weighed so heavily on Twice, the guilt that tore him up until the very end.