Blaise didn't intend for that to happen. He figured either Theodore would be completely thrown off himself and just wouldn't do anything, or he would confront him. Neither of those happened and when his wrist was taken, he knew it was already committed.
Blaise remained still, letting him trace the mark as his eyebrows furrowed. Given the thoughts that preceded this, the action could mean much more than what it actually looked like.
When he let go, Blaise flexed his fingers and pulled his arm back, both appendages falling at his sides. There was a time when he had no plans, not even a desire, to be a Death Eater. But everything had changed and honestly, he liked the way it looked on his arm.
A corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk - he caught just the faintest tint on Theodore's skin - but it dissolved quickly.
"Doesn't it?" He asked rhetorically, just as their food appeared on the table.