Frost smothered the window as drifts accumulated on the sill as snow danced through the dark, catching the light of streetlamps and dusting the earth in stardust. The warmth of the bar promoted the ease that seeped into his old body, restful. With it being such a cold night, there were not too many patrons to consider the drinkery crowded, but just enough to take notice. Green eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, noting the time with a concerned edge, though it was not uncommon for his companion to be late. A half-folded coat and dark scarf lay across the stool beside him in the far corner, away from the rest, simply enjoying the solitude that was portioned for him. After so many years, listening to the murmurs of the children, he could honestly say it never bored him. No matter how many times he heard the same conversations before.

The door could be heard opening, attention being pulled away to search for his friend. Two men stepped inside and stomped their feet on the door mat to rid themselves of the powdered flurries, neither he knew. About to return to his anxious waiting, just as the door was about to close, a blonde man ran in, his fair hair falling just below his chin as he scanned the bar. Their eyes met and that familiar smile greeted him, followed by an enthusiastic wave of the arm.

"Liet!" the newcomer called, drawing peculiar glances of the people around him before he all but ran to the brunette, grasping his arm in an affectionate hold, "Sorry, I was, like, totally not expecting this much snow."

He smiled, seeing through the lie easily, "It's alright, the snow slowed me down as well, so I haven't been here long."

Poland grinned, taking the words like an eager child took candy without question. "It's, like, been way too long since we, like, totally hung out! Have you, like, worked out your money matters and stuff?"

"Ah," Lithuania gave a wry grin as a hand ran through shoulder-length brown hair before being halted by a low ponytail, "I'm not too sure myself in all honesty, but it seems everyone is catching it in some way or another. In comparison, I'm in pretty good shape."

"Can I get you two anything?" a bartender suddenly appeared, a stern woman with a stout body and dark auburn hair pulled back into a bun, but with laugh lines creased into her features.

"I'll, like, have a Zołądkowa," the blonde ordered, glancing to his fellow nation, his carefree smile never faltering.

"Łowicka please."

The dim lights, the gentle chatter, the warm building, the bubbly company. It reminded him of other times, where this sort of setting took place in a large, private home instead of a public tavern. "Feliks," he asked, cutting off the endless babble that he could only partly listen to at the speed it was given, "do you ever find yourself missing . . . those times?"

Green eyes blinked as he made out exactly what Toris was talking about. Their little corner fell silent save for the small 'thank yous' as their drinks were served to them. They sipped in relative silence, though by no means was it uncomfortable. It was, perhaps, the only time they could communicate without walls, barriers between them. Without even having to look at each other, without voicing a single thought.

'Sometimes, yeah, I guess.'

'Sometimes, I miss seeing everyone every morning. I find myself about to make a large meal only to remember I'm on my own.'

'Sometimes I miss the work. I miss the times everyone had a place to call home.'

'I miss those times when we all could be in the same room and smile.'

"But, like, we're still here," Poland suddenly spoke, jolting his friend out of his thoughts, "Even if all the others are, like, doing their own thing and stuff, we're still here." His smile was warm, comforting and relaxed as he savoured the golden alcohol.

The drink's warm buzz and taste of wild roses, sitting in the dark corner, relishing the company just as much as the drink. A smile graced his features. Outside it was cold, the pearly glass showed no farther than the small pile of white that clung to the windowpane. After hundreds, thousands of years, it was natural for friends to come and go, to laugh together one day and becoming sworn enemies the next. Thousands of years of betrayal, pain, grief, anger, sadness, loss . . .

Joy.

Bliss.

Happiness.

"Yeah," he finally sighed, emerald eyes shut as the glow seeped into his old form. Finishing his drink with a quick tip of his head, the shot tapped hollowly on the dark wood counter. He gazed into the facets of the empty glass, content, "We're still here." An arm slung over his shoulders in a partial hug, laughter dancing through the air and into his undying memory.