She shrugged a little. She didn't like to push. She certainly wasn't going to beg him to ask her anything, and if he wasn't ready- if he wasn't EVER ready, she would live with it, because it was better then the alternative of living without him. "Oh sure, throw my age in my face as well," she murmured with a ghost of a smile. "Now you sound like my mother."
She sighed then, pushing her hair back over her shoulders and taking a long, fortifying sip of the champagne. "I love you, Draco. You love me. In the end, that is what matters the most to me. The rest is... set dressing." It was, for the most part the truth. It didn't mean that a faint, wistfulness crossed her expression for a moment.