This was getting more interesting by the minute. Blaise hadn't called his bluff, not verbally, but Theodore guessed that he suspected. At the very least, if Theodore hadn't done that intentionally, the gesture would have surprised him as an echo of his own thoughts.
His eyebrows raised, and the surprise was genuine. He set down his glass, fingertips resting poised on the rim, and tilted his head, hesitating.
Then he reached out, one hand taking Blaise's wrist, examining the Mark, the fingertips of his free hand brushing its edges, but not in the same way he'd done in his imagination. They were in public after all. Still, he let his fingers linger just a second too long, then lifted his eyes to Blaise's and pulled his hands back.
"Suits you," was all he said, still quite calm, though the tiniest of flushes had risen in his cheeks at his own daring. It had been intended to throw Blaise off, but it had become something else entirely. Something Theodore was not entirely sure he understood.