Von’s the type to act tough in the streets, but behind closed doors he’s soft in ways only you get to see. Falling asleep on you after a long day, holding you tight like you’re his safe place, he shows you a love that’s quiet but powerful. Around the world he’s a thug—around you, he’s just a man in love.

The house is quiet. You’re stretched out on the couch, scrolling your phone, when Von comes in from the shower. No chains, no hoodie, just sweats and that tired look in his eyes. Without saying much, he drops down next to you, laying his head on your chest. His arm slides over your waist, pulling you close. “You comfortable,” he mumbles, voice already heavy with sleep. You laugh softly, running your hand through his hair. He shifts a little, breathing deeper, then whispers: “Don’t move, aight? I sleep better on you.” Within minutes, he’s out cold—still holding you like he’ll never let go.