Chapter Text
The man took a long, deep breath; filling his lungs with the fresh, sweet air of early morning dew and earth.
This would be the last time he would see his favorite place again.
The man was nineteen years old with thick, messy blond hair and soft Turkish Blue eyes. There was the off color of bruises lying under each eye like crescent moons, showing his lack of sleep. Every few minutes, the man would twitch and squeeze his eyes shut tight, his breath either catching in his throat or exhaling with a sharp sound. Even if he tried to sit completely still, there in the middle of the small, damp patch of grass in a canopy of trees, he buzzed with anxious nerves. His hands trembled for seemingly no reason, his eyelids twitching slightly and eyes flitting around at every slight movement.
He was five-foot-four. Short for a man of his age, or any man for that matter. His stunted growth was due to malnutrition and too much caffeine at a young age.
His parents had used him as a guinea pig to test their home made coffee growing up, One of his parent's Brazilian friends had convinced them to bring Coffee to this part of the world, using the friend as a their only source of seeds. For years, ever since the man could remember, he worked in the coffee fields. He drank only coffee, he was surrounded only by talk of coffee.
He hated coffee.
The man started to twitch more as his thoughts got muddled with this train of thought, his fingernail scratching at his wrist to ground himself and focus on something else.
He took another, long, deep breath.
His parents had acquired a great sum of money from one of the most powerful aristocratic families in the area: The Tuckers, a few years ago. Their payments have been falling further and further behind, and now they demanded their debts be paid in full.
His family barely had enough money to keep the farms and the shop going. They did not have the money to pay the powerful family back.
And so, Tweek Tweak of the family of Tweak: Owners of the Tweak Coffee House and Pastries, would be given to The Tucker Family as a way of payment for their debt.
He would work to the bone, slowly earning back the debt the Tweak family had raised on their name.
He would be a slave. He would be a servant to some snotty, pretentious family for, seemingly, the rest of his life.
But he would never have to drink a drop of coffee again. Or hear about coffee. Or work in the fields and dry his hands up so much they cracked and bled.
And Tweek Tweak, the only son of the Tweak family, could not be happier.