"Did you take my pen?"

You gave a smile and shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at you, trying to ignore the familiar pitter-patter that was the beating of my heart. Your smile was perfectly unreadable.

That unreadable expression was the one which I had learned to hate and love in the past month, and right now I was trying to decide whether I should kiss or slap that unreadable expression away. I needed my pen right now; absolutely needed it. Without it, copying what was written on the Powerpoint presentation would be truly impossible.

"I'm going to ask you one more time - did you take my pen?"

Your smile then morphed into a tight-lipped frown as you handed me back my beloved Faber Castell pen.

Sometimes, I wondered if you were bipolar too.