King Von Imagines

Forever Us

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Word Count~1047

Ayala knew he was coming. He always showed up on time, never missed a visit with their son. But she wasn't expecting this.

When the knock came, she barely had time to wipe her hands on a dish towel before Trey—her old friend from high school—beat her to the door. He swung it open, casual as ever, completely unaware of the storm brewing on the other side.

King Von stood there, hands in his pockets, expression blank, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story.

Trey grinned. "Yo, you must be Dayvon. I'm Trey, Ayala's—"

"Where she at?" Von cut him off, voice sharp.

Trey blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... inside." He stepped back, nodding toward the hallway. "Come in."

Von didn't move. His jaw clenched, gaze flickering from Trey's relaxed posture to the way he stood too damn comfortably in his space. His space—because no matter how much time had passed, this house, this life, this woman, would always feel like his.

Ayala appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her leggings. "Von," she breathed out, her voice softer than she wanted it to be.

His eyes snapped to hers. "Who this?"

She hesitated. She knew that look. The tight set of his jaw, the way his hands flexed like he was resisting the urge to ball them into fists.

"Trey's just a friend," she said, stepping forward, as if closing the space between them would ease the tension crackling in the air.

Von let out a short, humorless laugh. "That right?" His gaze slid back to Trey. "You always answer other people's doors, 'friend'?"

Trey held up his hands. "Man, look, I was just—"

"Nah, you was just comfortable as hell in my house," Von cut in, stepping inside now, his presence filling the room like a thundercloud.

Ayala sighed, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stepped back.

"He just came by to catch up," she said quietly. "You don't have to do this."

Von scoffed, shaking his head. "You think I don't know what it is? I come to pick up my son, and I see some nigga up in here like he belong? Nah. I ain't stupid, Ayala."

"It's not like that," she insisted, frustration creeping into her voice. "We're not together, Von. You don't get to act like—"

"Like what?" he challenged, stepping closer now. "Like I still love you? Like I still feel some type of way seein' another dude up in here with you?"

Her breath caught.

Trey cleared his throat, awkward as hell. "Uh... I'ma just—"

"Yeah, you do that," Von muttered without looking at him.

Trey mumbled a quick goodbye and practically sprinted out the door. The second it clicked shut, the tension thickened.

Von exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "Damn, Ayala..." His voice was lower now, rougher, but there was something else in it too—something that made her chest ache.

She swallowed hard. "What do you want me to say?"

He looked at her then, really looked at her. "Tell me you don't feel it too."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Because she did feel it. She always had. Even when they fought, even when they weren't together, the love never really left.

Von took another step forward, close enough that she could smell his cologne, feel the warmth radiating off of him. "I know we been through some shit. I know I hurt you," he murmured, voice softer now. "But don't act like I'm the only one still holdin' on."

Ayala clenched her jaw, looking away. "You came to get your son."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. I did."

A beat of silence stretched between them before she finally met his gaze.

"Stay for dinner."

Von raised a brow. "Oh, so I'm invited now?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "Just sit down, Von."

As the tension between them simmered into something unspoken, a small voice broke the silence.

"Daddy!"

Their three-year-old son, Kairo, came barreling out of his room, his little sock-covered feet sliding across the hardwood floor as he sprinted toward Von with all the excitement in the world.

Von's entire demeanor shifted the second he saw his son. His hard expression melted into something soft, something real, as he crouched down just in time for Kairo to launch himself into his arms.

"Wassup, man?" Von laughed, scooping him up effortlessly. Kairo giggled, wrapping his tiny arms around his dad's neck. "You been bein' good for your mama?"

Kairo nodded enthusiastically. "I ate all my veggies!"

Von gasped dramatically. "For real? All of 'em?"

Kairo grinned. "Yup! Even the green ones!"

Von glanced over at Ayala, smirking. "Oh yeah? She ain't have to bribe you with no fruit snacks or nothin'?"

Kairo giggled, burying his face in Von's shoulder. "Maybe a little."

Ayala shook her head, laughing. "Snitch."

Von chuckled, rubbing Kairo's back. "That's my boy." He kissed the top of his son's head, holding him close for a second longer, just soaking it in. No matter what was going on between him and Ayala, this right here? His son looking up at him like he was his whole world? That was everything.

Kairo leaned back, his little hands patting Von's chest. "You stayin', Daddy?"

Von looked over at Ayala, waiting for her answer.

She hesitated for a second before sighing. "Yeah... he's staying."

Kairo cheered, throwing his hands in the air. "Yay! Daddy's stayin' for dinner!"

Von grinned, shaking his head as he set his son down. "Aight, aight. What we eatin' then?"

Ayala crossed her arms, smirking. "I was gonna make baked chicken, but since you're here, I might as well fry it."

Von placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be touched. "See, that's why I love you."

Ayala rolled her eyes, but the warmth in them was undeniable. "Boy, hush."

Von just smiled, watching Kairo excitedly run off to grab his toys. Yeah, things were complicated between him and Ayala. But in moments like this, with their son laughing and the smell of home-cooked food in the air, he couldn't help but think—maybe they weren't as finished as they pretended to be.