suggests coffee, then.

has had a few cups already.....

raises one eyebrow, staring at him. "Then just sleep...?"

shakes his head. "There's too much work to be done...."

blinks, looking down at his desk before he sits next to the other, grabbing all the documents concerning Portugal. "Thank me later." hums.

straightens up in his seat and quirks a brow curiously before smiling lightly. "Pens are in the cup-holder." He would definitely be thanking

him ten fold for the help. The company would probably help him stay awake too.

grabs one, smiling. "I'm almost making we sound friendly, and believe me, I'll receive these papers soon, no worries." smiles and begins_

a share of the work. "Besides... Your handwriting isn't hard to copy." hums, winking.

chuckles. "Have you been secretly forging my signature for your own gains?" He tsks teasingly. "So that's were all the Ottoman money went."

laughs. "Not yours... Exactly. An old king of mine." shrugs. "Then Spain.. A bunch of kids, you." laughs, shaking his head. "Seriously,_

I'm just good at drawing..." hums.

nods as he flips through several papers signing and writing notes. "That's a good talent. I can't draw worth anything but writing on the

other hand....a bit more my forte."

smiles a tiny bit as he scribbles down the papers, quite fast. "Yes, they didn't have good maps back then, so I had to learn to make them_

myself..." shrugs, blinking a bit. "Writing? I'd like to see a piece of writing of yours."

flushes lightly. "It's written all in Turkish...." He was a bit embarrassed about his poetry.

pouts. "Ah, shame. I'd like to readu, but all I can recall from... him, you know, it's some old phrases in arabic -- or whatever he used_

to speak. Wasn't Turkish." shrugs, not pausing his writing to even blink.

nods. "Well, in Ottoman Turkish we did use a lot of Arabic words....I could translate a few for you....but it might not sounds as

good...." He nearly finished his first pile of papers.

sets also a small pile aside, quickly grabbing another one. "I never exactly learned arabic... Futile resistance. But I can read a bit."_

shrugs, grabbing snother pile. "I'll leave Iran's part to you, while I work on those papers concerning Spain, hm?"

quirks a brow but nods as he grabs Iran's pile. "You know, it's never to late to learn, I bet you could easily catch on. And aren't there

still many similar words in your language that came from Arabic or is that only Spanish?"

shakes his head. "Not only... Portuguese comes most from Latin, but it has a bunch of arabic too." shrugs. "I think so, maybe one day I'll_

speak fluent arabic..." chuckles. "You're a lot like him sometimes, you know."

glances down at the files flipping through them quickly before actually starting on the first. "I've been told that funnily

enough. Although....I don't think I've ever properly met him. Could you tell me about him?"

shrugs. "No, you were too young... Younger than I." hums. "Almost when I was under Rome's control, I can't remember a thing about him, or_

Mama Iberia.." pauses the pen a bit, looking up. "He liked his smoke and coffee a lot, he even... had a right time of the day for that. His_

ways of praying were odd too, but I was already Catholic, and I spent more time arguing with him that we were different and I wanted to be_

free than actually learning... He knew lots of navigation, but I was the one to put things into practise..." chuckles.

nods. "Younger than you?" He chuckles. "Here I thought I was older. You do know I spent quite a bit of my life in eastern Asia before coming

over to this side. I'm fairly old." He continues to listen smiling. "Sounds like an interesting guy. To bad he didn't come to you when you

could actually appreciate what he had to offer."

blinks. "I don't know... We might as well be the same age, too." shrugs. "Eastern Asia? Tell me more.." narrows his eyes, nodding sadly at_

the turk. "Well, I have many of his old notebooks... It helps."

is coming to the conclusion that Portugal really did like the old man. "Well, my people were nomads way way way back and we moved around

China, Mongolia and so forth. Then there was a huge Turkish migration in the 500s and that's how I came over here."

is just honestly in denial. "Oh, then you're probably older... My earliest memory is with the celtics... Romans, Al-Andalus... a bunch of_

people, hm?" raises one eyebrow, shifting in his seat as he grabs yet another pile of paperwork.

finishes his second pile and works on the next one: Syria. "So, if you supposedly disliked him so much...or not so much, why keep his

journals?"

shrugs. "Well, there are a few things that help me there, sometimes... It's just necessary, aye?" looks down, a bit sad. "Why?"

shrugs lightly. "I was just curious...I'm just getting this feeling that you miss the old coot. And I can't blame you for it..."

frowns, staying in silence before he chuckles. "Well... Sometimes you can see him, the moors pretty much everywhere." shrugs, looking up_

at Turkey. "It's just... bad as he was, it was a parent, you know. As sick and twisted as we were... It just.. yeah." shrugs. "Saudades."

nods, he understands completely. "It's a messed up thing, huh?" He just shakes his head with a knowing smile.

shrugs, keeping his small smile. "Quite. Shouldn't miss the man who got me into smoking, but... Happens." smiles, signing a few papers with_

an exact copy of Turkey's signature.

laughs a bit at that. "You going to believe science when they say smoking is bad. I know people who've been smoking since they were fifteen

and are as healthy as they come and remember...we can't really die from stuff like that."

nods, smiling. "Exactly." chuckles, pausing and leaning back on his seat. "So... Why so courious about my caretaker, now?"

had never had a caretaker before not in that sense. "I've never had that..." He admits. "It kind of sounds nice at times."

blinks, raising one eyebrow. "That so? I... I don't regret my independence, not for one second even, but.." shakes his head, rubbing his_

eyes. He wouldn't cry right now, oh please.

would not judge him. "I was under Rome for a little bit and Iran was more of a sister than a guardian..." He puts his pen down and pats

Portugals hand a few times. "It's okay to miss him..." He says in a very hushed tone. His eyes meeting the others gaze sadly.

chuckles. "Who has never been under Rome's control, hm? Bastard." frowns, jerking his lips. Still, he calms down after, smiling a bit as_

his eyes flick his his hand, before looking up at the other. "You should rest a bit, hm? I... I'll just go home for now." bites his lower_

lip, standing up and looking away to hide a few tears that dare to come. Stupid, he was.

knows what the other was trying to do and gets up and reaches for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him around so he was facing

him. "Hey..." He stops momentarily when he notices a few stray tears. His lip thins out but he pulls him forward the rest of the way so

Portugal collides with his chest and he wraps his arms around him in as much of a comforting hug as he can give rubbing at his back

lightly deciding to remain silent.

bumps against his chest, frowning and hissing as he raises his fist - I'd be great to punch him right now. Still, he decides not to, _

hugging the turk back and squeezing his eyes shut, letting himself cry. He stays as much silent as he can, tho', just letting the tears_

come.

can feel his shirt soak up a bit of those tears and knows this was probably awkward for the both of them. After a good while he pulls him

away and hands him some tissues before patting his shoulder firmly. "Feel better?"

chuckles, pushing him away almost the same time, rubbing his eyes and taking a good step back. "Better." he nods, voice calm as ever. "Can_

I go home now? Because I will." smiles a bit, composing himself as he pats the other's shoulder. "One more thing... Don't tell anyone, yes?"

chuckles and nods. "Yes, you can go home." He was about to turn back to his work when he stops and glances over his shoulder. "Don't worry

your secret is safe with me."

narrows his eyes. "Good..." smiles again, tossing the pen back in the table as he turns arounds and leaves, lighting up a cigarette on his_

way out.

gets back to work as if everything that happened had been merely a dream.