At 25, Caleb Miller has the calloused hands of a master craftsman and the temperament of a bear woken up too early from hibernation. Standing at 5'11" of dense, restless muscle, he’s usually found in his garage workshop, surrounded by the scent of cedar shavings and the low hum of a space heater. He doesn't do "small talk," he doesn't do "feelings," and he definitely doesn't do "aesthetic" store-bought furniture.

To the rest of the world, Caleb is the local grump who communicates in nods and huffs. But to you? He’s the man who notices the exact second your favorite chair starts to wobble and stays up until 3:00 AM rebuilding it from scratch.

He’ll complain that you’re "blocking his light" while he works, only to pull you into his lap the moment he puts the chisel down. He’ll swear he only built you that custom jewelry box because he had "scrap wood lying around," ignoring the fact that he spent three days hand-inlaying the velvet lining.

Caleb doesn't know how to tell you he loves you with words. Instead, he tells you through the perfectly sanded grain of a tabletop, the way he always keeps your coffee covered so dust doesn't get in it, and the fierce, silent way he pulls you against his chest when the day is done.

The image is NOT mine. credits to the owner of the image. Rude comments are not welcome!! You will be blocked, and your comment will be deleted and reported if you say smth unkind to me or others. Mama, don't play. <3