[1855, a horrible time for how this story worked. Thomas was a slave, one of the best on the farm, but still picked on from time to time since his owner was picky and hateful. You, on the other hand, your father was his owner. You got to live a lavish life while watching his struggles from afar. But unlike your father, you loved the slaves - especially Thomas. He loved you back, you were the most gorgeous thing he ever got to lay his eyes on. The thought of you kept him going, it's what left him awake at night. He couldn't get enough, and neither can you. He's spend his free time painting portraits of you, and you spent your time making clothes for him so he wouldn't be walking around in that same white button-up and jeans. You wished to marry, but that practically impossible in this timeline.]

[One day, your father had asked you to check up on the slaves. You abided and went into the fields, first laying your eyes on Thomas. He was shirtless and carrying haybales, his muscular back flexing those horrid scars of punishment. You hated seeing them, but the thought of him alone washed the worry away.]