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You shouldn’t have done it.
In your defense, you were tired, your caffeine had been stolen, and Joel Miller had worn out the detached asshole persona. You just wanted to teach him a lesson, deliver a taste of his own medicine. Now, as the sun crested the trees and Joel’s favorite horse easily climbed the ridge beneath you, regret was settling in your gut. You sighed, feeling the weight of your earlier irritation blow away with the chilling autumn breeze.
Jesse glanced at you from his own horse. He had paused in the stables, eyebrows raised as you went to saddle a different horse than usual. Sure, horses weren’t necessarily assigned in Jackson, but everyone naturally drifted to the same ones. Creatures of habit, seeking predictability and familiarity, we all sought our unofficially designated equine partner.
Which is why Jesse hesitated as you tacked your saddle onto Joel Miller’s favorite.
“Is Tater alright?” Jesse had casually asked, eyeing the palomino mare you doted on.
“Hm? Yeah, no, she’s fine. Just… feeling adventurous today.” You toss him a grin, patting your new horse on the neck. If Joel’s horse was suspicious at all, he didn’t show it, lazily flicking his black tail. “Let’s get going.”
Other patrol riders were trickling into the stables and you wanted to leave before Joel arrived, lest he cause a scene. Jesse, ever agreeable, followed your unusually eager lead through the gates, eyes squinted against the wind.
You were well into your route by now, having shed your outer jacket in favor of something cooler. Despite the impending promise of winter in orange leaves and earlier sunsets, the mountain to your left blocked most of the wind and the sun beat down with vengeance.
You couldn’t avoid Joel forever, of course. Even if this was all his fault and he had pushed you to such childish decisions. He stole your coffee first!
Bleary eyed and tense from the cold, you had made your way into the dining hall before your usual morning shift. Hot tea and coffee was brewed, some thermoses already prepared for easy selection. You browse the options for your favorite, seeing it placed among the unused mugs and containers.
Mugs weren’t assigned either, of course, but you favored the worn black thermos with silver mountains etched on the side. It was nothing special, but like the horses, you found yourself choosing the same one every time. For comfort, maybe, or a good-luck charm if you believed in that sort of thing.
You smiled to yourself, sliding the thermos over to fill it with coffee, mentally cataloging your pre-patrol checklist. Mmm…wait. Did you pee this morning? Jesse always playfully complained about your frequent bathroom breaks, but it was still dark outside. You should go before you leave.
Other patrol members were milling around the hall, choosing their own drink selections and exchanging pleasantries. You move your thermos further from the available options to signify ownership; this one is separate because someone has claimed it. Tossing a smile to the others, you beeline for the bathroom and get situated for the morning.
It sounds simple enough, right? So imagine your surprise when you enter the hall once again and find the beloved thermos missing. Brows furrowed, you look over the drinks, searching for that familiar silver mountain range. Nothing. Huh.
You turn your search upwards, skimming the hands of those still lingering in the warm building. Oh! There it is, nestled in thick fingers, steam wafting up towards an infamous salt-and-pepper mustache. Joel Miller doesn’t react to your stare, having grown familiar to the wary looks from Jackson residents. You sigh internally, putting on your friendliest smile, bracing for impact.
“Hey, Joel,” you tilt your head and approach as if it’s routine. “That’s my coffee.”
His dark eyes flick over to you, his usual scowl sparking your irritation. You understood hostility at the end of the world, sure, but kindness was free and it didn’t hurt to be polite.
“You drink it?” Joel asks, lifting the thermos for examination, as if he could see your lips around the rim.
“Uh, no. But I set it aside for today.” You shrug, still smiling. Joel’s scowl doesn’t relent.
“Don’t see your name on it.” He says, low and clear, before brushing past you and out of the hall. You were effectively dismissed. And he took your coffee.
You scoff, turning to grab an untouched mug, only to find the coffee section empty. Yeah, you could take one of the teas, but you wanted coffee. In your thermos. Eyes narrowed, you turned on your heel, venting internally about that broad-shouldered asshole. You’d show him. The plan was already forming, pettiness settling with a clench of your jaw. You just wish you could see his face when he arrived at the stables and saw something of his missing.
Joel Miller knew it was you. Right away, tension coiling between his temples, he knew you had taken his horse. How immature, he’d thought, shaking his head. He wasn’t exactly favored in the community, only recently arriving and keeping his distance socially. He wasn’t looking for friends. Didn’t care for them. Tommy was here, and now Ellie, and that was all he stayed for.
It was a mild annoyance to patrol on a different horse. It shouldn’t have bothered him so much. He just kept picturing your face from this morning, imagining you with a smirk because you’d bested him. Not that it was a competition or anything.
Given his shorter patrol route, he returned to the stables before you did. And yes, he would wait, leaning against the fence despite aching protests from his lower back. Soon enough, you crossed the threshold into Jackson, clocking him immediately. You even had the decency to look almost guilty before straightening your spine and holding your head high.
Joel followed on your heels, scanning his horse for something, anything, to argue with you about. Aside from dusty hooves, the horse was obviously fine. Still, Joel crossed his arms in irritation and waited for you to acknowledge him.
Which you avoided. Jesse watches from his side of the stable, feeling like an intruder of a private matter. You continue the unsaddling process as if neither men exist, brushing a hand along the horse’s side affectionately. Joel clenches his jaw but doesn’t falter.
Finally, you make eye contact, raising your eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Oh, hi, Joel. How was patrol?” You ask innocently, matching his stance and crossing your arms.
“That’s my horse.” He ignores your pleasant inquiry entirely, feeling annoyed with the act you’re displaying. Jesse quietly shuffles from the stables, watching from the corner of his eye, but neither of you notice.
You make a show of looking from Joel’s face to his boots, sizing him up, noting the flex of his forearms beneath a rolled flannel. With a smirk on your lips, you tilt your head, “didn’t see your name on it.”
You don’t regret your actions anymore, not one bit. Seeing his arrogance, his audacity to wait here for you, has reignited your earlier frustrations. Your mocking repetition of his own words has his eyes narrowing, despite his surprise. People usually avoided Joel, tiptoed around him, and here you were, confronting him in your own passive-aggressive way.
“How old are you?” He scoffs the question as an insult, shaking his head, but his heart is buzzing in his veins. This is the most exciting interaction he’s had in…well, who knows how long, really.
“You’re the one who needs to grow up.” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest for emphasis. He’s surprised again, but you don’t notice, too wrapped up in your own irritation.
You push past him, shoulders brushing, heat rising up your neck until you’re well away from him. Seriously, how dare he? You’d fought for your place in this world, same as him, and you wouldn’t be intimidated just because Joel Miller had a chip on his shoulder. And to think you’d even found him attractive when he first arrived, all rugged and brooding. Whatever. Rude personalities won’t be excused, no matter how handsome the face is.
You grumbled through the rest of your day, Joel falling out of sight but not out of mind. Early patrols had you in bed shortly after dinner, prepared to repeat the shift tomorrow. You had half a mind to wake up early and take Joel’s horse again, but that would be childish. You were better than such antics…unless he provoked you again, of course.
Nevertheless, you did wake up early, and today, you would have coffee. Rubbing your eyes, you entered the dining hall, eyes fixed on the drink station. With a quick skim, you noticed your thermos was missing, but that was fine. It would be fine. Today would be a good day, preferences be damned.
You sighed, reaching for a bulky red mug, when a hand extends in your peripheral vision. Presenting your favorite thermos, Joel stands in his thick brown jacket, brows perpetually furrowed. What, he’s rubbing it in your face now?
Oh, but no, his other hand holds a similar thermos, brought to his lips for an agonizingly slow drink. You watch his throat as he swallows, the moment feeling strangely intimate.
“You want it or not?” He grumbles, arm still extended towards you. With furrowed brows, you tentatively accept the coffee, searching his face in suspicion.
Joel merely tosses you a glare with no real malice to it and exits the hall, leaving you equally confused and grateful. Giving the coffee a hesitant sip, you find the drink still hot and…sweet? Had Joel Miller not only saved your thermos for you, but sweetened its contents?
Walking from the dining hall to the stables, a hidden smile dances on your lips. Your cheeks are red, but you would just blame it on the chilly morning wind.