Saeriel spoke kindly to Victor, punching him in the arm playfully and smiling. He half-smiled back, as her punch had actually hurt a bit. She mentioned something about some of the ladies not being so reserved and probably wouldn't mind taking an 'adorable demon home.' He turned his gaze to the floor. As a typical narcissist, around Saeriel, he just felt like a demon and nothing more. He didn't feel beautiful or desirable, just disgusting, which he wasn't used to and didn't particularly enjoy, either. "I'm just going to take a seat. Right now, everyone is still coming in and the feast won't begging for another ten maybe twenty minutes. The cooks are busy, I suppose." She looked around for a seat, and when she eyed one, she moved over to it and plopped down. Victor followed her quietly, sitting down next to Saeriel, only he was a good 5 feet away from her. Victor noticed her looking around, possibly searching for someone in particular, but when it seemed she didn't find them, she furrowed her brow.
"Is there someone you're waiting for?" Victor asked softly. Victor didn't mean to pry at the elf girl, but he couldn't help being curious. He wished he could just get drunk and not have to feel how he was feeling, but he knew that it was probably against his better judgement if he were to do so. He stared at the ground, hoping Saeriel would answer his question, though he wouldn't blame her if she didn't.