It shouldn't feel good to see blood--and it doesn't, really--but there is something satisfying in it. Comes of proof that you've struck a hit, done some damage. But unless you're dealing with a real milksop it'll mean a hit back, and so Matthias is ready.

He takes the shove, but before Benedict can step away, he grabs hold of his shirtfront with one hand, and punches at his ribs with the other--once, a good one, and then a second if he can. Fuck off.