There's a quiet moment of contemplation, a second where he pauses and thinks "Oh, is that how I look when I laugh." before Russia huffs and shrugs those thoughts out of his mind.

So when his other steps closer and silently gestures, Russia finds it surprisingly easy to match steps and walk with only a few centimeters span between them. It's silent though, questions winding thickly in the dark of his mind, burning hot upon the tip of his tongue. But at the same time, he could care less. There's obviously something wrong here if his other is here upon the dim night streets of his city.

"An idle thought, really." He scoffs, breath white in the chilling air, voice trailing, "One that seems far off, no?"

There's a bit of sarcastic humor to that and it's obvious in not only his tone, but in the way he holds himself.