I stared at my phone for a moment, reading his messages with an unimpressed expression. He had a talent for being irritating even through a screen, and somehow, he always seemed to have something else to say whenever I thought the conversation was finally over. I started typing, stopped, then rolled my eyes at myself before sending another message.
You: why are you even texting me anyway?
It was a fair question, considering he'd disappeared for hours only to come back and bother me like he'd been waiting for the opportunity. I leaned back against my pillow, watching the screen for his reply.
You: don't you have anybody else to annoy?
The notification popped up almost instantly, the little bubbles dancing on your screen as if he had been staring at them, waiting for your irritation to peak. Even through text, you could practically hear the smug grin on his face, that deep voice vibrating with a teasing tone.
Von: nah, i specifically picked you out for this job. u special or sum
He wasn't wrong, not really. There was something uniquely infuriating about the way he targeted you, yet there was a strange comfort in it too. It was a routine—a toxic, exhausting, strangely addictive routine.
Von: “stop actin like u don’t love seein my name pop up on yo screen.
I stared at his messages, a reluctant smile threatening to creep onto my face before I could stop it. God, he was insufferable. The worst part was how easily he could get a reaction out of me without even being here.
I rolled onto my side, holding my phone a little closer as I typed my reply.
You: you got a real high opinion of yourself
I paused for a second before sending another message.
You: i leave you on delivered for 24 hours and suddenly you think you’re special.
I glanced at the screen again, already anticipating whatever ridiculous thing he’d come back with.
A few minutes passed. The silence stretched just long enough for you to wonder if he’d actually gone to sleep or found someone else to pester, but then the vibration hit your hand again. He was quick to snap back, never letting you have the last word for more than a minute.
Von: 24 hours? damn, u really tryna play games w me? u know i dont do that shit
There was a brief pause before another bubble appeared, his tone shifting slightly, losing some of the bravado and leaning into that low, direct energy he used when he was actually trying to make a point.
Von: “u keep actin brand new like we ain't been talkin every day.
I read his messages twice, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. There was something about the way he’d worded that last text that made me hesitate. For once, he wasn’t just calling me annoying or making some stupid joke about how much I liked him. He was reminding me that we’d been talking every single day, like I was supposed to understand why that mattered to him. I bit back a smile and started typing.
You: aww, you miss me already? that's cute.
You: didn’t know i was part of your daily routine.
The response time was suspiciously fast this time. Almost like he was poised over the phone, waiting for you to fold just a little bit. When the three dots appeared, they stayed there for a long time, indicating he was probably composing something longer than his usual one-liners.
Von: man fuck ‘cute’. u stay tryin to play me like i some lil boy. u know exactly what i mean
Another message followed immediately after, cutting through your sarcasm with that blunt, unapologetic honesty he carried everywhere.
Von: yeah, u part of it. u the only one who can even hold a convo wit me w/out actin like a fan or a groupie. u just stubborn as hell.
Then, a final text came through that felt different—less like a challenge and more like an invitation. I read his messages slowly, my smile fading into something a little softer by the time I reached the second one. For all his talking, he’d actually given me a straight answer. No stupid joke about how obsessed I was with him, no attempt to turn it into another argument. Just an admission that he liked talking to me.
I wasn’t about to make a big deal out of it, though. He’d probably deny the whole thing if I did.
You: so basically, you like that i don't kiss your ass. got it.
I sent the message, then glanced at the last notification, curious about what he’d say next. The reply didn't come right away. Instead, you saw the 'typing...' indicator flicker on and off several times, as if he were debating whether to keep playing it cool or just go for it. Finally, the notification lit up your screen.
Von: u think u so smart lol. yeah, i like dat. most these bitches just sayin what i wanna hear. u keep it real even when u bein a pain in my ass.
It was rare for him to be this transparent, dropping the guard he kept up around everyone else. But he wouldn't let the moment get too sentimental without throwing a curveball, because that simply wasn't his style.
Von: anyway, quit playin. u busy or u just tryna avoid me?
The implication hung there between the lines. I let out a quiet laugh at his message, shaking my head. He really couldn’t go five minutes without making everything about himself. I typed back without giving his question much thought.
You: damn, you always need this much attention?
You: i got a life outside of texting you, you know
I watched the message deliver, then added another one. I set my phone down beside me, fully expecting him to have something smart to say about that, even though I knew I’d probably pick it right back up the second it buzzed again.
You barely had the phone settled against the mattress before it vibrated violently, the buzz loud in the quiet of your room. He wasn't letting you off easy. Not even close.
Von: oh so u got a life now? since when? 😂
Before you could even process the tease, another message slid down the screen, his tone turning a bit more serious, a bit more demanding.
Von: cuz u sound real bored to me. if u really had a life u wouldn't be layin in bed lookin at yo phone waitin on me to text back.
He was calling you out, stripping away the layers of your defense until it was just the truth sitting there between you two. Then, the final blow landed—the kind of text that made your heart skip a beat despite your best efforts to remain indifferent.
I stared at his messages, genuinely offended by how confident he sounded. The worst part was that he wasn’t entirely wrong, which only made me want to argue with him more.
You: you are so fucking full of yourself.
You: i could be doing literally anything rn and you’d still find a way to make it about you
I sent it almost immediately, my brows knitting together as I read his messages again. I paused for a second, then smirked at my screen as another thought crossed my mind.
You: like you ain’t sittin there doin the exact same shit. you can’t go five minutes without botherin me either, so who you tryna fool?
The response was instant, as if he’d been laughing at your text while simultaneously preparing his rebuttal. He wasn't backing down; he was doubling down, enjoying the friction between you two far too much.
Von: lmao u caught me. yeah i definitely check my phone every five mins hopin u replied. u win this round.
It was a concession, but it was wrapped in that typical Von arrogance, refusing to let you feel like you actually won anything significant. Then, the vibe shifted again, moving from playful banter to something more pointed.
Von: but fr... if u ain't busy, come slide. i'm tired of dis phone shit. i'd rather see yo face den just readin text.
The invitation was blunt, stripped of all the usual posturing. I couldn’t help smiling at his messages. He was talking like picking me up was the biggest inconvenience in the world, yet he’d already said he was coming in twenty minutes. I found that ridiculously cute.
You: look at u, actin like u ain’t excited to see me
You: and don’t rush, baby. i’ll be ready when u get here ♡
I sent him my address, then added another message before he could start complaining again. I set my phone down for a second, only to pick it right back up almost immediately. Twenty minutes suddenly felt a little too long.
You: actually nvm hurry up. i miss u
The phone didn't just vibrate this time; it practically jumped in your hand. That last text—the one where you actually admitted you missed him—had clearly hit him harder than he wanted to let on. The immediate response was almost frantic, breaking through his usual composed, cocky exterior.
Von: say dat again. say dat one more time and see what happen
He was teasing, obviously, but the playful emojis couldn't mask the shift in his energy. He was clearly riding a high from those words. A few seconds later, a shorter, more direct text came through.
Von: on my way. stay right there. dont even move.
The 'baby' and the 'miss u' had clearly done their job. I let out a quiet laugh at his messages, shaking my head as I watched the screen light up in my hand. He was acting like I’d just told him the most unbelievable thing in the world.
You: LMFAOOO why u so excited
You: miss u, von. there, happy now?♡
I sent another text before he could reply, feeling a little bolder now that I knew exactly how much those three words affected him. I set my phone down and started getting ready, sneaking another glance at the screen every few seconds. Then, just as I was about to put it away, I picked it up again.
You: drive safe tho. i’ll be waitin for u
The phone sat silent for a few moments after your last text, but the tension in the air was palpable. You weren't sure if he was driving or if he was just stunned into silence by you actually being sweet for once. Then, the headlights of a car swept across your bedroom curtains, followed by the low rumble of an engine pulling up to the curb outside.
Your phone buzzed one last time. It wasn't a text this time, but a call. His contact photo—a grainy mirror selfie of him looking unbothered—flashed on the screen.
“get yo ass out here. i'm outside.”
His voice was lower than usual, lacking the playful teasing from earlier. It sounded grounded, almost impatient, but there was an undeniable edge of anticipation in his tone.