Eyes That Burn
1002 Words
The jacaranda tree swayed in the afternoon wind, petals falling like tiny stars onto the dusty ground. Ruvimbo Moyo sat beneath it, notebook open, though her attention was nowhere near the math problems she was supposed to be solving. Her eyes kept drifting across the schoolyard, to where he always sat: Kain Dzakata.
He did not laugh with the others. He did not eat, drink, or even join the groups that crowded around the lunch tables. He sat alone, posture unnervingly perfect, book open but eyes flicking across the yard like he was reading not the paper, but the very souls of the students. And he was watching her.
The first time their eyes met during break, she felt a shiver ripple across her skin as if electricity had leapt from him into her bloodstream. Her heart raced. She turned quickly, pretending to check her notes, but her thoughts refused to follow her command.
Nyasha, ever vigilant, leaned closer, lowering her voice. “He’s watching you. I can feel it.”
Ruvimbo laughed softly, trying to brush off the unease curling inside her. “You say that about everyone. Remember the tall boy in Form Three who wouldn’t even look at anyone?”
Nyasha’s frown deepened. “No. This is different. Trust me.”
Ruvimbo wanted to dismiss it, really she did. But the truth was, she couldn’t. Every time she glanced at him, the air seemed to shift. The sun on her skin felt hotter when he was nearby. Shadows clung closer to him, and even the wind whispered as he moved. Something about him was unnatural. Dangerous. And yet, impossibly magnetic.
That afternoon, as she packed her books to leave, Kain approached. His footsteps were silent on the red dirt path, but she felt them before she heard them, like ripples through the air.
“Do you believe in destiny?” His voice was soft, almost a caress, yet it carried a weight that made her knees weaken.
Ruvimbo froze, gripping the strap of her bag tighter. “No,” she said, though her throat was dry, her heartbeat loud enough that she feared he could hear it.
“Good,” he murmured, leaning just close enough that she could see the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the faint shimmer of something almost unreal in his eyes. “Destiny is a curse.”
She blinked, unsure what he meant, and he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows at the edge of the yard, leaving her with an ache she didn’t understand.
The next few days were torture. She noticed every detail ,the way his coat hung perfectly even in the heat, the way his gaze seemed to linger just a fraction too long, the faint scent of something earthy and cold that seemed to follow him. Every time she walked past him, every time he appeared at the edge of her vision, a warmth spread across her chest, a heat that frightened her more than it thrilled her.
One evening, Nyasha cornered her as they walked home. The village was quiet, the sunset spilling gold across the horizon. “Tell me you’re not thinking about him,” Nyasha demanded, her voice both worried and angry.
“I’m not …I mean… I don’t know,” Ruvimbo admitted, finally. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. Every fiber of her body seemed to respond to him. Every instinct whispered that he was not just another boy.
“You’re obsessed,” Nyasha said flatly. “And I don’t mean crush-level obsessed. I mean… danger-level obsessed. He’s not normal, Ruvimbo.”
Ruvimbo shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying. He’s… just different. That’s all.”
Nyasha grabbed her arm. “No. Don’t play with this. Something about him isn’t human. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, and I’ve lived long enough in this village to know when the air itself is warning you. Stay away.”
Ruvimbo pulled her arm free, frustration and desire twisting in her chest. “I can’t just… stay away.”
That night, sleep refused her. She dreamed of crimson skies, of shadows that moved like liquid, of eyes that burned in the dark, calling her name. She woke with her heart pounding, hands clammy, body trembling with a hunger she could not name.
The following day at school, Kain was waiting beneath the jacaranda tree. No book, no shield. Just him. And when she approached, he didn’t speak at first. He just looked at her, and for a long moment, the world shrank until it was only the two of them.
“You feel it too,” he said finally. “This… connection. The pull between us.”
Ruvimbo’s throat went dry. “I… I don’t understand it.”
He stepped closer, closer than any boy had ever dared. She could feel the faint chill radiating from him, could smell the faint copper tang of blood, the earthy depth of his presence. “I do. And you must understand… it will not be easy. You cannot go back after this.”
Her pulse raced, fear and longing tangling in her veins. “I don’t care.”
The first spark of something forbidden flared between them, quiet but potent. Their hands brushed, a whisper of fire racing through her. She knew, with a certainty that terrified her, that nothing in her life would ever be the same again.
That night, as the moon rose high above Dzivaguru, she caught herself staring at the sky, feeling his presence even though he was nowhere near. Something had shifted. The world was different now. Dangerous. Alive. And all she wanted was to be near him, even if it meant stepping into the shadows he inhabited.
And she would.
Because even though Nyasha warned her, even though the village and the laws of nature whispered danger, Ruvimbo’s heart had already chosen.
Kain Dzakata had claimed it.
- Writer
