Songfic to "Back To The Start" by Lily Allen from her album "It's Not Me, It's You" and slightly edited to fit (meaning I took out one line and then a verse that kinda ruined the mood). Slight AmeCan, if you squint. Nyotalia. AU-ish in that Canada is a bit more aggressive in displaying anger. Um...yeah. That's all.

She looked at the pictures of them in the scrapbook, little drawings scrawled above little descriptions in dark black ink, their little cute smiles bright and still clear after all these years. She could still remember them perfectly, and the bitter feeling of regret washed over her again. Over what she had done.

When we were growing up you always looked like you were having such fun.

She was always so much louder and vibrant than she was. Always the center of attention, wearing that infuriating grin even in pain, in sadness. She envied her that. It just wasn't fair! Her stupid sister always given all the attention, even when she broke away and left them all, she was still fixated on. She was always so behaved and kind and polite and everything they wanted in her, but it wasn't enough.

You always were and you always will be the taller and the prettier one.
People seem to love you.
They gravitate towards you.

Her sister was always the most powerful, beautiful and wild, the one everyone wanted. Even her few friends always mistook her for America, her stupid, obnoxious sister, always the center of attention and in the center of every argument playing the hero. Even when they said they hated her, they were always drawn back to her. Always. And she was the ignored neighbor that no one even saw.

That's why I started to hate you so much.
And I just completely ignored you.

She pushed her away, even when she sought her out and asked her what was wrong. Especially when she was just so perfect and angelic and had to help her, she could feel the venomous words well up, and all she could do spit them out and watch her beautiful face contort into a frown and the perfect blue eyes scintillating in the northern light with unshed tears. She pushed the thoughts away and turned with as much dignity as she could muster.

But you made it so easy for me.
You always rise to the occasion.

It was too easy to pick out the little mistakes and use them to tear down the thin wall of hatred. Her sister only listened helplessly and let her list out every flaw she had, retreating silently and letting her finish, always leaving before she could apologize.

I'll always pull you up on every stupid thing that you said.

Every single mistake, it brought her such joy and grim satisfaction to point out. To watch those blue eyes be cast downwards and hear the mumbled words of apology, and to stomp on those words with a frosty glare and "it's too late."

But I found it so entertaining
Messing around with your head.

It was just so darkly amusing to watch her squirm and writhe in pain!...but now it was too late. Too late for her. She supposed her sister might forgive her, but she couldn't forget what she had done.

I don't know why I felt the need to keep it up for oh so long.
It's all my fault I'm sorry you did absolutely nothing wrong.

She was completely free of any blame she placed, of course, because that was simply the way she was. She could only blame herself, and even after her childish rage was gone, she pushed her away, kept the walls of hatred up.

I don't know why I felt the need to drag it out for all these years.
All the pain I've caused you.
The constant flowing of all the tears.

The few tears that she saw fall did not bring her the same joy anymore, but she steeled herself to walk past and wear a mask of scorn. There really was no reason anymore.

Believe me when I say that I cannot apologise enough.
When all you ever wanted from me was a token of my love.
And if it's not too late
Could you please find it deep within your heart?
To try and go back-go back to the start?

"Of course."

She closed the dusty volume.

Poor Canada is so evil in this...I need to write AmeCan fluff to make up for this.