Brushing his thumb softly over the other nation's cheek, Poland managed a smile. This conversation was too serious for him, and he wanted to find some way to just... not have it.

"You do, for sure," he assured his friend. "So, like, how about those berries that totally aren't going to pick themselves?"

He wanted to be comforted, to be reassured himself, but he didn't want to admit it, didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to focus on it for fear of what he might say if things stayed serious--I'm not sure how safe I can feel anymore, and that's not your fault, and of course I'm stupid, I went away with him alone and I have no one to blame but myself and I'm scared--He kept his smile up by sheer force of will. Lithuania liked him. Respected him. He wasn't going to risk that by showing how afraid what happened made him.