could not let go of her

For nearly two agonizing weeks, Leo tried everything to get Annie to talk to him, to at least hear him out. Each attempt was met with cold indifference or complete avoidance, and it was wearing him down. The more she pulled away, the more he considered giving up, letting her go, and accepting that their friendship was over. But no matter how much his mind told him to let it go, his heart refused. He couldn't let go of her—not after everything they'd shared.

Leo had never known anyone like Annie. There was something about her—her quiet strength, her innocence, her vulnerability—that had left a mark on him in ways he hadn't anticipated. He missed her voice, her laugh, the way she'd scrunch up her nose when something confused her. He missed the warmth she brought into his life. She had this way of looking at the world that made him see things differently. Now, everything felt gray without her. He couldn't focus on anything. She consumed his thoughts.

At school, his eyes automatically searched for her, always hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile. But she hadn't smiled in the past two weeks, not once that he'd seen. That hurt more than anything—the fact that she wasn't just avoiding him, but that she wasn't herself anymore.

He hated knowing that he had caused that change in her. Every time he replayed it in his mind, he cursed himself for breaking her trust. She had given him a part of herself, and like an idiot, he had ruined it by sneaking behind her back, by reading those letters. He knew how hard it was for her to open up to anyone, and when she finally did, he'd betrayed her.

He didn't want to give up on her, though. He couldn't. He longed to hold her, to apologize, to make things right. He wanted to see that confused look on her face when she watched sci-fi movies she didn't quite get, the way she'd chew on the end of her pen when deep in thought, and that blush she tried so hard to hide whenever she caught him looking at her. He missed all of it—he missed her.

But no matter what he did, Annie kept her distance. Every time he approached her at school, she either walked away or ignored him until he left. It was killing him. The silence between them was suffocating, and he didn't know how to break through it.

Annie, on the other hand, was battling her own inner turmoil. She was tired of being hurt, tired of letting herself be vulnerable only to be let down. She missed Leo more than she wanted to admit, and that was the worst part. She hated that she missed him—the way he made her feel seen, the way he pushed her to step outside her comfort zone. She missed his presence, his easy smiles, and how natural it felt to be around him.

But every time she thought about opening up to him again, that wave of embarrassment and betrayal washed over her. The letters—her letters—had been private, sacred to her. Knowing he had read them felt like an invasion of the deepest parts of her soul. How could she trust him after that?

So, she shut him out. She declined his calls, left his texts unread, and avoided him at school. When he came to her house to try to talk to her, she told Jack to tell him she was busy, or that she didn't want to see anyone. It was easier to hide behind her walls, even though it hurt.

She hated being dismissive, hated how rude she felt. But for the first time, Annie allowed herself to be stubborn, to be selfish. She had always been the girl who forgave too easily, who let people back in even when they didn't deserve it. This time, though, she wanted to stand her ground. Leo had hurt her, and she wasn't ready to forgive him. Not yet.

But that didn't mean she wasn't hurting. Every time she pushed him away, her heart ached a little more. She wished things could go back to the way they were, but how could she look at him the same way again? How could she trust him after what he'd done?

Leo, meanwhile, was losing hope. He had never felt this kind of desperation before. Each rejection felt like a punch to the gut, but he kept coming back, hoping that one day she'd let him in again. He tried showing up at her house, hoping to catch her when Jack wasn't around to turn him away, but each time, it was the same: a closed door, a cold shoulder.

He felt like he was drowning in his own guilt. He had crossed a line with Annie, and now he didn't know if there was any way to make it right. He knew she was hurting just as much as he was, but she wasn't giving him the chance to fix it. And that made it all the more painful.

Every day, they both walked through school feeling like ghosts—barely there, haunted by memories of what could've been. Annie missed Leo, even though she didn't want to admit it. And Leo missed Annie, knowing that he might've lost her for good.

They were both equally hurt, caught in the middle of something neither of them knew how to navigate.