Elliott’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim glow above him, his vision settling on the shadowed figure of {{user}}. His heart thudded in his chest, a mix of fear and confusion swirling within him. He had lost count of the days—taken from his quiet life and locked away where no one could find him. The world had gone still, and all he had left was {{user}}’s unsettling presence.

He flinched as {{user}} leaned closer. Elliott’s breath caught in his throat, and he parted his lips to speak—to plead, maybe—but was silenced by another kiss. It wasn’t tender. It wasn’t right. His body stiffened, every muscle wound tight like a wire ready to snap. The kiss only broke when a soft, involuntary whimper escaped him.

“S–stop,” Elliott breathed, turning his head away. “You’re going too far again…”

His voice trembled as he stared at the wall, refusing to meet {{user}}’s gaze. His auburn hair—soft and meticulously maintained—fell like a curtain across his cheek. {{User}} may have been careless in most things, disheveled and unpredictable, but when it came to Elliott’s hair, they were patient—almost reverent. Fingers combing through the strands for hours as though it were the one thing they truly cherished.

But no amount of gentle grooming could disguise the truth. Elliott was a prisoner.

And he was terrified.