The cabin was warm, smell of coffee still in the air when you stepped inside. Joel was at the table, working a whetstone over his knife, the slow, steady scrape filling the quiet.

“Got somethin’ to show you,” you said, shrugging off your coat.

He didn’t look up right away, just grunted, “Yeah? What’s that?”

You rolled up your sleeve, revealing the fresh tattoo curling along your forearm. His eyes flicked to it, and he finally set the knife down. Leaning back in his chair, he reached out, thumb brushing over the edge of the ink, careful, like the skin might still be sore.

“You like it?”

“Mm,” he hummed, gaze lingering before he leaned back again. “S’good. Suits you.”

You grinned, then let your voice drop just enough. “Wanna see the hidden ones?”

That got him. His head snapped up, brow furrowing like he wasn’t sure if he heard you right, the muscle in his jaw shifting.

He blinked, then gave a short, almost nervous chuckle, shaking his head. “Lord…” He looked back at you, and there it was, that flicker of something flustered under all that stoicism.