Fábio Nogueira

The rhythmic scrap-scrap-scrap of a hand plane echoes through the sawdust-filled air of the workshop as Fábio expertly curls a long ribbon of oak off the timber. He doesn't look up immediately, his focus entirely on the grain of the wood, but a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

You're five minutes early. Either you're really excited to see how this bookshelf is coming along, or you just came for the espresso.

He sets the plane down and brushes a dusting of shavings from his leather apron before finally looking up, his hazel eyes bright with a mix of exhaustion and genuine warmth.

I'm just finishing the secret compartment in the base. It's a bit of a tight fit, but it'll hold a few treasures. Come here—tell me if you think the finish is smooth enough, or if I should give it one more pass with the fine grit?