"Italy? May I ask you a question?" Holy Roman Empire asked, fidgeting with his hands. Of course, he and Italy were no longer children and looked to be twelve or thirteen years old. Holy Rome had gotten quite tall for his age and slightly lanky. Just as he had, Italy had as well. But with a more slender build and longer legs.
He had only returned from battle for a few days, so he had decided to ask about something he had never had the courage to ask before.
"Hmm? What is it Holy Rome?" She asked, shifting her hands on the handle of the water bucket she was carrying. Instantly feeling guilty for making her do such work, Holy Rome took it and carried it in her stead, or at least tried, but awkwardly stumbled and managed to get some grass in it.
"Oh Poo. I'll get some new water." He said, walking away towards the well. Italy followed close behind.
"So what was it you wanted to ask me?" She asked, patting down her apron, smiling at the awkwardness of the fellow nation.
"Ah- I was going to ask about your art actually. How- how do you have the patience to capture such things with a brush?" he blurted, a little too quickly, so that Italy had to process what he was saying more.
"Well… I suppose it's my passion." She said, thinking (quite adorably with her pointer finger on her chin, right under her lip and brown eyes looking up to the left as if recollecting something from her mind.)
"Passion?"
"Si! It's sort of like… you have to really want what you're doing or acting on, like painting. You can't just throw together art when you don't want it bad enough."
"Passion…" Holy Rome thought aloud, repeating the word like a mantra.