From the corner of her eye, she noticed him leaning against the staffroom door, arms crossed, watching the class. He didn't come in yet, just observing, and she couldn't tell if he was smiling or frowning.
One of the students nudged her.
"Ma'am, your pen!"
She looked down — her favourite pen had rolled under a desk. As she bent to pick it up, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned quickly, expecting a student, but it was him.
"You should be careful," he said, holding the pen.
She raised an eyebrow. "Thanks… I can manage."
He gave a small shrug, then leaned closer. "I just don't want you losing things all the time."
Before she could answer, a boy in the front row shouted something about the homework. In that split second, he walked away, leaving her confused — did he mean to help, or was he teasing?
During the break, she saw him talking quietly to another teacher. He noticed her staring and waved, but she felt a strange prick of doubt. Was he annoyed with me?
She shook her head. "No… he's not. I'm just overthinking."
But then, at the end of the day, he walked past her desk and dropped a small chocolate on it without a word. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Okay… maybe he wasn't annoyed," she whispered, smiling softly.
Sometimes, school life wasn't just about teaching or assignments. It was in these small moments — a pen, a glance, a chocolate — that everything felt a little more alive.