.~.~.~.~.
When France stepped out of the taxi—a luxury these days with petrol as it was, Germany was surprised to see it—and greeted him warmly it took all the well-polished restraint Germany had to keep from staring. He expected France to look a little worse for wear, probably more than the others due to the sheer influx of refugees he was handling from Spain and Portugal, but…somehow, it looked worse on him than it did the rest of them. France always took great pride in his looks and took good care of himself so it was quite a shock to see him so haggard—his hair just that much duller, the lines more pronounced on his face, his clothing a little rumpled, his posture slouched and limp. He looked tired, worn…older. He supposed they all did.
"How are you fairing, Germany?" France asked him affectionately, planting a quick kiss on both of his cheeks and grinning at him when Germany flushed darkly. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that, but took comfort in the fact that France's drawn appearance didn't seem to be affecting his personality in any way.
"As well as could be expected." He paused when France moved closer to him than was strictly necessary, and cleared his throat while he glanced back into the taxi. "Where's England? Didn't you say he was going to accompany you?"
France's expression soured immediately into a strained smile, although he didn't move away, sticking close to him even as they began to walk into the warm lobby of the hotel they would be staying in. Their gloved hands brushed against each other. "He is being his stubborn self and refused to come." France frowned darkly, shaking his head with a sigh. "He's still at the front in Spain. I don't know why, but he's determined to find Portugal. For some reason he's convinced he's still alive, or at the very least, that he can find some trace of him…" Germany glanced over at France as he pressed the elevator button to go to the room he had already arranged for him, a grim look on his face. "It is a fool's errand. I do not see how he could still be alive, if Spain is…" France cleared his throat, and Germany saw a flash ofsomething cross over his expression, but it was gone as soon as he had noticed it, his features settling somewhere between irritated and morose. "Regardless, I suppose I am envious of his conviction. And with the meeting coming up, he'll have to take a break to attend anyway."
"Speaking of the meeting, I wanted to discuss that with you."
"Oh?" France finally looked over to him, and their eyes met for a moment, blue on blue. France's eyes were still so bright, and despite everything that was happening, Germany could take comfort in that. They were still full of life, and he could only hope that would never change for either of them.
Or for any other nation, for that matter.
.~.~.~.~.