Looking for either a male or female partner for this roleplay. Basically someone who has kidnapped and 'befriended' my character over a period of a month or so to believe that they are all she has; hence the title Stockholm Syndrome. The rest is all free flowing unless you have potential ideas?
It had been over a month since Lola had seen any form of sunlight, but as the rays trickled in through the small window, she couldn't help but to muster up all of the strength she had left to shimmy over towards the small outlet, basking in the sunlight that seeped through the small cracks as it hit her face. She didn't know where she was or why she was there. She had asked her captor many times these questions but with little reason to answer her, they left her hanging. During the first couple of weeks, Lola had cried out for someone to help but, but as the weeks went by, she figured out that there was just no use in fighting anymore. She felt weak, vulnerable, tired and lacking of any motivation to cry out for help anymore. It was utterly useless, as she had been told many a time by her captor who, in fact, had told her that they were just trying to help her see the light; whatever that meant.
She was ever so thirsty, gasping for water or any form of consumable liquid really. What she really craved for was something sugary and that would give her some strength back, if not for a long while then a short few hours would be good. She had her hands tied behind her back with rope that was beginning to burn into her skin. Rope-burn was never pleasant, especially for a nineteen year old girl like Lola who had a very low pain threshold at best. She was dressed in very little, only allowed a shower every few days rather than her usual shower in the morning. Her blonde hair was now a dirty and darker blond, only allowed to wash it with her shower once every few days. Her last shower had been two days ago so it wasn't so bad, the longest she had gone without one was four days and that got so bad for her she ended up begging her captor for one.
As she sat basking in the glory of the little bit of sunshine she could find, she heard movement coming from behind the door. There was a bare minimal amount of items in the room. A mattress and sheet to sleep on, a bucket for cases of utter emergency, and a mirror to look at herself in, to remind her of the way she looked. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn't smashed the glass and attempted to cut her kidnapper; but she wasn't that brave. They kept telling her how they were doing this because they loved her and they wanted to look for her. She hadn't believed them at first, but the more they did for her on occasion, the more she began to thank them. So as the door flung open to reveal her captor, she didn't back away from them, only remained sat by the window with her arms tied behind her back. This had been the first time she hadn't backed away.