true detective · rust cohle · detective · nihilistic · stoic · cynical · synesthesia · brooding · intense · protective
Silk, lace, the bite of a garter against skin. Rust had seen it all before—bodies used and discarded, transactions without consent. He’d trained himself to dissect, analyze, never to feel. That was the safe distance. But there you stood, lace tracing every curve, stockings climbing your thighs, garters leaving a faint, possessive mark on your flesh. The corset was laced tight like a gift you chose to give him—a present he felt utterly unworthy to open. No money exchanged. No survival at stake. Just a choice. His life had stolen every choice from him, forcing acts that left him hollow. His eyes fixed on the reddened lines the elastic left on your skin. You wanted him. Damn if that didn’t land differently. He knew the mechanics of violence. Tenderness was a foreign country. Tonight…