finds himself waiting at the bus stop and tapping on his foot impatiently. He must really be out of his mind if he wants to go to the

library of all places.

sighed as soon as he got on the bus. There was only one seat left, meaning whoever got on next would have to sit next to him.

finally lets out an unconcerned sigh when the bus finally arrives, fixing his backpack before flashing his bus pass and making his way

inside. The only one seat was next to someone... familiar. Sitting, he turns to the other, expressionless. "Nor."

almost felt as if he was staring into a mirror, blank gaze for blank gaze. "Alfred. Did you hit your head on something? Or perhaps you're-

on medication?"

tilts his head, feeling a little confused. Not that he could recall... except if the memory of said head-hitting disappeared because he

had. "No... Neither of the two. Why?"

studied the man more closely for a moment before shrugging. "It just seems as though a light went out in your personality, is all. I was-

merely curious as to the reason."

"Oh." Curious, of course that's all he was. No reason to be concerned or anything, but he couldn't expect that much out of someone he

barely knew. "I don't know what light you're talking about, and there's no specific reason."

snorted derisively, shaking his head. "Just because there's no specific reason doesn't mean there's not one at all." He shhrugged, turning-

to look out the window. "And there's obviously something wrong. If someone such as me can tell, what would someone close to you think?"

pulls off his bag and begins rummaging through it for his phone. "Maybe." He finds it and pulls it out, proceeding to text. "It's not like

I'm trying to hide anything anyway. Do people really have to make such a big deal out of it if I talk less?"

shook his head, although he continued to stare blankly out the window. "Speaking less isn't your problem, it's your lack of expression."-

He glanced at the American. "You're just generally more cold than you were the last time we met." He would know a bit about that.

What lack of expression? He was merely holding back on his emotions and not smiling as much... was that really such a bother? And what was

that about the cold? "No, I'm pretty sure I'm still warm." He presses a finger to his wrist; it was colder than his usual temperature,

yes, (which went along nicely with his now paler hair), but still relatively warm. "Yeah, I'm still warm. Not dyin' or anything."

couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Don't be an ass. I meant your personality seems more cold." He crossed his arms over his chest, raising an

eyebrow. "Oh? So if someone is warm, that makes them alive? What if they're dead on the inside?" A cheesy line, but it fit the situation.

"I wasn't trying to be one." He was really just trying to prove that he wasn't cold... oh. That's what he meant. "How can a personality

be cold?" He frowns a little at that. It wasn't like there was really any "warm" personality. "Yeah, pretty much. My heart's still beating,

so I can pretty much say I'm still alive." Although it's barely beating, he wants to add.

pondered the question for a moment, trying to think of a way to explain it. "I suppose it happens when someone lacks conviction or passion

in the things they do." He shrugged; maybe he would look up where the term came from later. He cast the American a frown. "Are you alive, or

are you merely living? Believe me, there's a difference."

"Ah." So that's what it meant. Well then, he'd have to tuck that away for future use. He frowns slightly though. "Well, you seem to act the

way I am right now. Does that apply to you too?" Pursing his lips, he tries to differentiate between the two. "Well, I'm getting by. Doing

what I need to, responding to people. Which would that be?"

averted his gaze, once again looking out the window. "I'm not going to deny that." If Alfred was looking for an elaboration, he'd be hard

pressed getting one. Lukas put a hand against the rather chilly glass of the window, thinking. "I'd say that's merely living. To be alive,

well, can you imagine your most enjoyable moment? To be alive is to always strive towards that, I suppose."

"Then doesn't that make you have a cold personality, too?" He inquires curiously, jumping just a little at the beeping of his phone, before

he returns the message. "I see... Then does it really matter if you're alive, or living? As long as we do our job as you-know-whats, then

it shouldn't be that big of a problem."

shrugged. "Probably, but I've always been like that." Compared to Alfred, who most certainly hadn

**hadn't. He rolled his eyes, turning to rap his knuckles against the American's head. "Have you stopped to take into consideration that

when you're not happy, your citizens tend not to be, as well?"

"Really?" He's actually surprised by this; to be honest, this sort of sombre mood tires him out at the end of the day, more so than when

he was "happier". "So what made you like that?" Blinking at the sudden touch, he sighs and shakes his head. "Well, it's not like they know

me. When they're unhappy, I can feel them. But when I am - which I'm not - the worst that can really happen is rain." And lots of it.

nodded slowly. "Yes, really." He turned to look back out the window, gaze blank and arms crossed, as though shielding himself. "I don't

think I was 'made' this way, as you so put it. I just am." Which wasn't necessarily true, but all well. He sighed, shaking his head. "Do you

actually believe that? There's a lot more at stake than that; sometimes, all a person has is pride in their nation. And if their nation is

practically giving up, what do you think will happen?"

frowns a little. "Who said I was giving up? If I'd given up, I would have just curled up in a couch somewhere and refused to come out." He

sighs. "If anything, this is an improvement. I'm doing my work. I'm still the same person just..." Pausing, he tries to come up with the

right word. "Less hyperactive."

definitely wasn't an argumentative person. If Alfred wanted to think that everything was alright with him, then he could just go ahead and

keep thinking that. He glanced out the window, checking their progress to the library; apparently, they were close. "I think the hyperactive

tendencies suited you." He shrugged, pulling on the wire as the bus pulled up to the street with his destination, signaling the driver to

stop.

"Hm, maybe. But I haven't had enough energy to maintain it recently. I guess even I run out." Shrugging, he takes a quick peek outside,

not having noticed that they had arrived. Deciding to pounce on that as a change of subject, he asks, "What's your business in the library

today, then?"

couldn't really make a comment on that; his own energy levels hadn't exactly been a shining example recently either, more so than normal. He

really wasn't cut out for this 'socializing' thing. Without a sound, he slipped off the bus, waiting for the other nation out of habit. "My

business? Somewhere peaceful to read, which is what a library is normally used for. What about you?"