Being this close to her finally made Rodolphus take in more details. He thought she might be too young for him, in one way or another, but he was starting to come to the conclusion that he didn't mind her being so young. At least, as long as their situation wasn't all that different. He didn't need the title of marriage but being a Lestrange (among other things, like his general disposition) meant that he expected for his things to remain his, whether or not they technically weren't.
That idea didn't worry him, though. He silently leaned down while reaching out to catch a bit of her hair and toyed with it, letting his gaze linger on the dark shade before it ran back up to her face. His own Mark was clearly visible on his forearm, as were other scars, evidence of the wear and tear of his years.
He lowered his voice even more, having a penchant for the dramatic and extremes. "I do, though," he told her and grinned just before tightening his fingers in her hair.