you can't destroy me because i destroy myself

Leo stood frozen in the library, the weight of his guilt crushing him as Annie walked away from him without a single glance. His heart raced in his chest, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say that would stop her from shutting him out.

"Annie, can we please talk? Just let me explain," he called out, desperation lacing his voice. He moved closer to her, practically begging, but it didn't matter.

Annie ignored him, her face a mask of icy indifference as she gathered her things, walked around him, and disappeared through the library doors without a word.

Leo was left standing there, helpless and full of frustration. He wanted to punch something—hell, he wanted to punch himself. He knew he had no one to blame but himself for the mess he'd made.

From the very beginning, when he found that first letter, he knew it was wrong to read it. But back then, Annie had been a mystery to him, someone quiet and reserved, always sitting by herself in the library. The more he read, the more he became intrigued by her world, her thoughts. He thought maybe, through the letters, he could understand her better.

But then they became friends.

She had started to trust him, opened up to him in ways he never expected. He should've stopped reading after that. He wanted to stop. But something about those letters kept drawing him back in—they gave him insight into the parts of Annie she was still hiding.

He justified it, told himself it was because he cared about her. But deep down, Leo knew there was no excuse. He had crossed a line, and now, the trust she'd placed in him was shattered.

Annie, meanwhile, was fighting to keep it together. She could barely breathe, the betrayal still fresh, raw, cutting deep. The moment she realized that Leo had read those letters—her letters—something inside her broke. She trusted him, despite her instincts warning her not to, despite the walls she had carefully built around herself. She'd let herself be vulnerable with him, thinking he was different from the others. But now, she felt like a fool.

With everything else she was dealing with, the pain was too much to handle. She slammed her fists against her desk, trying to shake off the waves of anxiety washing over her. She picked up her pen, hoping to pour her emotions onto the page like she always did, but the words wouldn't come. All she managed to write was:

"You can't destroy me, because I destroy myself."

The page blurred as tears filled her eyes. She groaned in frustration, crumpling up the paper and throwing it across her bedroom. The weight of everything—the betrayal, the shame, the anger—pressed down on her like a suffocating blanket. She felt too exposed, like her most intimate thoughts had been laid bare for Leo to pick apart.

Her bedroom door creaked open slowly, and Jack stepped in, his expression full of concern. "Hey, Anne," he said softly, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "Are you okay?"

Annie didn't even look up. "I'm fine, Jack," she muttered, her voice flat.

Jack frowned, not buying her deflection for a second. "You're not. And it's okay not to be fine."

Annie lifted her head, meeting his eyes with a blank expression. "Really, I don't care anymore," she whispered, her tone emotionless.

Jack's brow furrowed in confusion. He knew she was struggling. He could see it written all over her face. "Annie," he began softly, "what happened with Uncle Kalvin... it was messed up. You know that, right? It was wrong, and I'm sorry I wasn't here to stop it this time."

"Stop," Annie interrupted, her voice shaky as she held up a hand. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "It's not your fault, Jack. Don't put that on yourself."

Jack clenched his fists, frustrated. "If I'd been there sooner, I could've—"

"You couldn't have stopped it," she cut him off, her voice barely above a whisper. "He always finds a way."

Jack's jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface as they both thought of their uncle. "We should tell Dad. He'd make sure that bastard never comes near you again."

Annie shook her head. "No. Dad's been through enough. He lost Mom. I'm not going to make him lose his brother too. It's not fair to him."

Jack ran his hands through his hair, clenching his fists tightly. "It's not fair to you, Annie."

Annie didn't respond. She just turned her chair away from Jack, staring blankly at the wall. Jack watched her for a long moment before speaking again, his voice softer this time. "There's more, isn't there? Something else is going on."

"No," she muttered, her tone unconvincing.

Jack wasn't fooled. "Don't lie to me. What happened? Was it Leo?"

At the mention of Leo's name, Annie tensed. She shut her eyes tight, as if she could block out the painful thoughts swirling in her mind.

"It is Leo, isn't it?" Jack stood up, moving toward her. "What did he do?"

Annie sighed, refusing to meet his eyes. "He didn't hurt me. Not physically. He just... he betrayed me."

Jack's fists clenched at his sides. "If he did something to hurt you, I swear I'll—"

"No, Jack," Annie interrupted, her voice firm. "It's not like that. He just lied. I can't trust him anymore, but it's not something you need to beat him up for. Please. Just leave it."

Jack hesitated, his protective instincts warring with his desire to respect her wishes. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she insisted, her tone weary. "Think of it like an argument I'd have with Amari. It's not worth fighting over."

Jack exhaled sharply, his jaw still tight with frustration. "Fine. But if he ever crosses a line again, you let me know. I won't let him hurt you."

Annie nodded, though she knew deep down that Leo's betrayal had already left a wound. One that wouldn't heal easily.

After Jack left her room, Annie slumped against the door, hugging her knees to her chest. Her mind replayed every conversation she'd had with Leo, but now, all she could see was the betrayal, the lies.

The person she thought she knew was gone, replaced by someone she couldn't trust anymore.