Viktor was definitely beginning to feel the effects of the drink; he felt bolder and more open, receptive to just about any possibility. When Meghan's face changed to one very serious and grave, his hand reached out to pet hers, squeezing it gently.
"You shouldn't fret. I'll be fine in a tick. Besides, you have a face meant for sunshine and smiles," he added, still touching her hand as he smiled at her, flirting, warmed by her concern, "I can see that the sport is in your blood as in mine," he added, shifting in his chair to move closer to her still.
He wasn't sure what his motivation was, or his intentions; he realized with a start that she had very lovely hair, and intense eyes when he'd let himself start to notice. He thought she probably had a guy, but she didn't seem to be disinterested, and her body language was encouraging to a degree.
"So, Meghan of the Prides, why is such a beautiful woman sitting here all alone? You will permit me to attend to you? Yes?" he asked, as a crooked grin spread across his features, "I think we should be drinking many of these warm drinks, and speak of favorite Quidditch moments," he added again, finding himself drawn to her.