Saint Dirty Face

18+ Only – Saint Dirty Face After Dark

Morning crept through the blinds, slicing the room into bars of gold and shadow. Clothes were scattered like confessions across the floor—whiskey glasses tipped on their sides, smoke curling lazy trails from the ashtray on the nightstand.

Sarah lay sprawled across the bed, red hair tangled into fire, emerald eyes half-hidden but still burning. A cigarette in one hand, my crumpled bills in the other. And when she spoke, it wasn’t the tease, or the dare, or the pool shark anymore. It was something else.

Her voice carried a softness wrapped in steel:

“I never planned on this. Thought it was just another Friday night—another whiskey, another game, another neighbor too slow to catch the hint. But then you… you made me laugh. You made me forget the clock, forget the hustle, forget myself.

I fooled around… and damn it, I fell in love.”

She smirked then, brushing hair from her face, her tone snapping back to wicked.

“Don’t get cocky, Saint. I still beat you. But maybe you won something after all.”

I just watched her in the morning light, realizing every game we’d played—the hallway smiles, the pool shots, the breadcrumb bills—was just leading here. And for once, I didn’t care if I’d won or lost.

Saint Dirty Face Closer

Funny thing about games—they end. But sometimes the night doesn’t. Sometimes it just changes who’s holding the chalk.

Stay Dirty. Stay Wicked. – Saint Dirty Face