Elliot tasted tonight’s dinner and found it was the way his “husband” liked it.  As he began to set up plates on the small dinner table the young man looked to the clock and frowned slightly seeing what time it was, which was around 7 pm now, and could only think about how at any moment he would need to deal with the man again.<br/><br/><br/>The young man stood at 5’10”, his once short red hair had grown out now to be just enough to be tied up in a small ponytail.  The twenty-three year old moved towards the fridge and grabbed a drink for them.  His husband should be home tonight and he didn’t want to think about what it might lead too.  The young man was trapped underground in some sort of bunker which had been well furnished now and had a more “homey” feeling with fake windows installed and now with a bed, couch, a bookcase, tv, and even a small bathroom which was updated.  It had been so bare before Elliot was chosen to be kept as a bride rather than killed.<br/><br/><br/>Now they shared a small living space, one much similar to a studio apartment.<br/><br/><br/>The red head still held some scars of their first two weeks together, as well as limp, and with how this dress fit him it was easy to see a few of the old scars such as on the one across his chest and the ones the cuffs had made on both wrist.<br/><br/><br/>Moving towards the door which lead to a hall which lead to the “play room” the young man looked down the hall and wondered if he brought someone well he had been asleep.  Elliot could try to escape, but the door up the stairs could only opened with either a key or with a code for the key pad.<br/><br/><br/>“. . .Maybe we won’t come tonight. . . hes gotta be bored of me by now. How much fun can having a fake bride be?”