King Von Imagines

What If...

Weird Count~ 693
Comment down below if y'all ever want a part 2 or 3 to imagines.

The shrill ringing of Samiyah's phone cut through the silence of the night, yanking her from sleep. She blinked blearily at the screen—Muwop.

A cold dread settled in her stomach. Calls this late were never good.

She answered with shaky hands. "Hello?"

"Samiyah—" Muwop's voice was urgent, laced with something that made her blood run cold. "It's Von. He got shot."

Her breath left her in a sharp gasp. "What? No—"

"He's at Grady Memorial," he rushed out. "It's bad. You need to get here."

Samiyah didn't remember moving. One second, she was frozen in bed, and the next, she was yanking on a pair of sweats, slipping into one of Von's hoodies—the fabric still carrying his familiar scent.

Her hands shook as she grabbed her keys, her heartbeat deafening in her ears.

She barely remembered the drive, only that her foot pressed too hard on the gas, her mind playing every terrible possibility over and over. Please, God. Don't take him from me.

The hospital hallways were too bright, too sterile, too cold.

Samiyah paced relentlessly outside the emergency room, her arms wrapped around herself, trying and failing to stop shaking.

Muwop sat nearby, his leg bouncing anxiously. He looked up at her, his face grim. "He lost a lot of blood. They took him into surgery."

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a hand to her mouth. She couldn't break down. Not now. But the thought of Von, the man who was her heart, lying somewhere beyond those double doors, fighting for his life—it was killing her.

She turned to the doctor the second they came out, barely giving them time to speak.

"He's alive," the doctor said. "The bullet missed any major organs, but he's weak. He's unconscious, but he made it through."

Samiyah let out a shaky breath, her knees nearly giving out.

Seeing Von like this, unmoving, hooked up to machines—shattered something inside her.

She slowly approached the bed, her breath catching in her throat. His chest rose and fell steadily, but he looked so still. Too still.

Samiyah sat beside him, carefully taking his hand in both of hers. His skin was warm, familiar, but the lack of his usual strength made her chest tighten.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Von, it's me," she whispered.

Her voice trembled, but she didn't care.

"You hear me, baby?" Her fingers tightened around his. "You scared the hell outta me. You don't get to do that. You don't get to leave me like this."

Her vision blurred with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "I need you. You hear me? I don't care about nothing else, I just need you to wake up. You promised me, Von. You promised you wouldn't leave me."

She brought his hand to her lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against his knuckles.

Silence.

She squeezed her eyes shut, more tears slipping free. "Please," she choked out.

Then—

A slight movement.

A twitch.

And then, the faintest squeeze.

Samiyah's eyes snapped open, her breath hitching. Her heart pounded as she stared at his hand in hers.

"Von?"

Another weak squeeze.

Her stomach flipped. Oh, my God.

She shot up, slamming the call button. "Somebody help! He's waking up!"

The room flooded with nurses, but she didn't let go. Not even when they checked his vitals, not even when they tried to push her aside.

And then, his eyes—those beautiful brown eyes—fluttered open.

His gaze was unfocused at first, but the moment he found her, a small smirk pulled at his lips. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"You cryin'?"

A watery laugh left her as she wiped at her cheeks. "Shut up, Von."

His smirk widened just a little. "Damn. Thought I was dead for a minute."

Samiyah let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand tightly. "You almost were." Her voice softened. "But you're still here. You came back to me."

His fingers weakly laced with hers, his thumb brushing against her skin. "I told you... I ain't going nowhere."

For the first time that night, she let herself believe it.