CHAPTER 4: EYES LIKE STORMS
1467 Words
There was something strange in the air that morning—an unshakable weight I couldn’t explain. I stared out the tall windows of our my dormitory common room, watching as soft clouds passed lazily across the sky. The sunlight filtered through them in soft golden streaks, and for a moment, the world seemed calm. Deceptively calm.
But beneath that calm was a ripple I could feel in my bones.
“Belle,” Lira’s voice pulled me back to earth, “we’re going to be late for our first class.”
This girl decide to sleepover in my room, even though she will have a better sleep in her room. When it first time she tell she want to sleep here i object like cant she see that we barely fit in my bed. In the next day this crazy girl bought a big bed so we can fit in it.
“Oh, right.” I blinked, grabbing my satchel and following her out of the dorms. Our footsteps echoed against the marbled floors as we made our way through the Academy’s east wing.
“You spaced out again,” Lira teased lightly, nudging my arm. “Are you still thinking about what happened in the courtyard yesterday?”
I gave her a small nod. “A little. It's just... everything happened so fast.”
“They humiliated you for no reason,” she muttered, her voice edged with heat. “And they didn’t even apologize. Ugh. If I could hex Clarisse’s entire makeup drawer, I would.”
“Lira,” I warned softly, but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.
“Fine. No hexing. But I’m still mad,” she huffed.
We passed a group of younger students who stared at us, whispering behind their hands. I pretended not to notice. Rumors traveled faster than wind here.
A familiar sting bloomed in my chest, but I pushed it aside. Lira’s presence always made things more bearable. That thought triggered a memory.
“Hey… do you remember how we first became friends?” I asked quietly.
Lira glanced at me, surprised, then smiled. “Of course I do. You looked like a lost kitten.”
I laughed under my breath. “I was crying behind the greenhouse.”
“It was raining,” she added. “You looked like you were trying to become one with the roses.”
“I was trying to disappear,” I said honestly.
Lira’s teasing softened. “And then I gave you my handkerchief and made you eat half my lunch.”
“You forced me,” I corrected.
She grinned. “Same difference.”
I looked at her again, really looked. Her silver-tier pin caught the sunlight on her lapel. It glinted proudly, a reminder that even though she walked beside me, we came from different worlds. And yet…
“You never treated me differently, even knowing some people treat me bad that you may get involved in my mess you still decide to be my friend.” I murmured.
“Why would I?” she said, frowning. “You’re the kindest person I know.”
“But people say—”
“I don’t care what they say,” she cut me off. “Tier doesn’t make a person. How they treat others does, and honestly i prefer you than this two faced people.”
I didn’t reply, but warmth bloomed quietly in my chest.
We reached the classroom for Potion Science just as the second bell rang. The moment we entered, the familiar scent of spellroots and dried wolfsbane welcomed us. Copper cauldrons lined the long stone tables, each one bubbling faintly with unfinished assignments.
Professor Caelus stood at the front, his long beard braided neatly and tucked into his belt. “Ah, perfect timing, Miss Vonder. Miss Valemont Take your seats.”
We sat side by side, pulling out our notebooks.
“Today,” Professor Caelus began, “we’ll be discussing catalyst brews—potions that require a magical spark to activate their effects.”
I tried to focus on the lecture, but the whispers had already begun.
“Did you hear about Orion?” someone behind me hissed.
“They say he was trained in secret by one of the Royal Mages.”
“I heard he turned down a Gold Tier invitation. Can you imagine?”
My grip tightened on my quill.
It had been like this all week. Orion Leonhart, the new Silver Tier student, had become the subject of every hallway whisper and classroom rumor. Despite being only a Silver, students—especially Gold Tiers—flocked to him.
They hovered near his desk. They sat near him at meals. They followed him with their eyes whenever he walked into a room. And yet, Orion barely spoke to anyone.
He didn’t seek attention. He didn’t ask for it. He merely existed—and that seemed to be enough.
“Why are they so obsessed with him?” I whispered to Lira.
She shrugged. “Because he’s hot.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Don’t give me that look, Belle. You’ve seen him. You have eyes. Those cheekbones could cut stone.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle a laugh. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m honest,” she said proudly. “Besides… I noticed something.”
I turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed what?”
She leaned in closer. “I caught him staring at you yesterday.”
I paused. “What?”
“Dead serious. In the courtyard. When Clarisse was throwing a tantrum. He was looking right at you.”
I blinked. “Maybe he was looking at something behind me.”
“Belle.” Lira gave me a flat look. “You’re literally the only person I’ve seen him look at more than once.”
My heart gave a small thud. I looked down at my notes.
“He probably just thinks I’m weird,” I mumbled.
“Oh yeah, he thinks you’re weird and stares at you like you’re a spell he can’t solve. Makes total sense.”
“Lira…”
“I’m just saying,” she said, raising her hands in surrender. “Something’s up.”
By the time our second class rolled around—Spell Theory—we had both calmed down a little. The classroom was a wide, tiered amphitheater with long stone benches and carved runes etched into every step. The light filtered in through stained glass, casting colored shadows across the desks.
Professor Ellowyn stood at the center, pointing to an ancient chalkboard covered in glowing sigils.
“Today, we’ll be examining contract magic,” she said. “Particularly the binding terms of magical oaths.”
I tried to focus again, but my thoughts were swirling.
And then I felt it.
That weight.
That gaze.
I didn’t want to look. I didn’t need to.
But I did anyway.
Three rows above.
Orion Leonhart.
He wasn’t talking. Wasn’t even pretending to read.
His eyes were on me.
Silver, piercing. Calm. Still.
I quickly looked away, heat rushing up my neck. There was no emotion in his gaze. Just… depth. Like he was trying to remember something about me that I didn’t know myself.
I didn’t know why, but the longer he looked at me, the more I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Who was he?
--------------
Later that evening, Lira burst into my room with a box in her hands.
“I brought honeycakes from the East Market!” she announced, dropping onto my bed without invitation. “My aunt sent them. You’re sharing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were mad all week.”
“I am mad. But I get hungrier when I’m angry.”
I laughed and grabbed a piece from the box.
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the room warm with the scent of baked sugar and cardamom.
Out of nowhere, Lira said, “So. Orion.”
I choked slightly. “Again, him?”
“You’re curious about him, aren’t you?”
I hesitated. “Maybe. A little.”
Lira leaned back against my pillows. “He’s too quiet. Too poised. He walks like someone who’s used to watching everything. You notice that?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. It’s like… he’s always waiting for something.”
“Or someone,” she added with a teasing grin.
“Lira,” I groaned.
She laughed. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I know when something’s going to be interesting. And Belle?”
“Yeah?”
“I think your story with him is just starting.”
I didn’t say anything.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about those eyes.
Eyes like storms.
Watching.
Waiting.
And somehow, knowing.
- Writer
