Page 14 of Defying the Crown
Chapter 5
Daniel
The morning light pierced through my eyelids like a dagger, my head throbbing with every breath. I rolled over and fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen. My eyes widened as I saw multiple messages from Harald.
"Good morning, Daniel. I hope you slept well."
I couldn't help but smile despite the pounding in my head and the nausea roiling in my stomach from last night's overindulgence. We had only been chatting for a few days, but somehow Harald's thoughtful messages never failed to lift my spirits and bring a grin to my face, even in the depths of a wicked hangover. There was just something about him that drew me in and made me feel special.
I typed back,"Morning, Harald. Or is it evening there? I'm a bit worse for wear after last night. Jayda and Caleb dragged me out to the club."
"Yes, it's late in the evening for me. Oh? Do tell. I'm intrigued,"he replied almost immediately.
I chuckled, my fingers flying across the screen."Well, you definitely don't know this but I love to dance. The music was pumping, the drinks were flowing... it was a great night. Even if I am paying for it this morning."
A few moments later, my phone buzzed with his response. But this time, it wasn't just a text. Harald had sent a picture. My breath caught in my throat as Iopened it.
There he was, smiling at the camera, his blond hair tousled and his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He was incredibly handsome, with chiseled features and a jawline that could cut glass. I felt my heart skip a beat.
"Your turn,"he wrote."I showed you mine, now you show me yours."
I hesitated, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like death warmed over, my hair sticking up at odd angles and dark circles under my eyes. But something about Harald made me want to take a chance.
I snapped a quick selfie, grimacing at the camera, and hit send before I could second guess myself."Don't judge,"I wrote."I warned you I was hungover."
My hair was a disheveled mess and there were dark circles under my eyes from the late night out with Jayda and Caleb. But hey, this was me - Daniel Ramirez in all my unfiltered glory.
My phone buzzed again almost immediately. I opened the message, expecting a witty retort or playful jab at my disheveled appearance. Instead, what I saw made my heart skip a beat.
"If that's you hungover, then you have nothing to worry about. You look great, Daniel."
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I read his words. Before I could even process the compliment, another message came through. It was a selfie of Harald, his face contorted into an exaggerated grimace, his blond hair sticking up at odd angles.
I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through my bedroom. He looked ridiculous, but somehow still managed to be devastatingly handsome. It was clear he was trying to make me feel better about my own less-than-stellar appearance.
"There, now we're even,"he wrote."Two equally terrible selfies, misery loves company."
I grinned, my fingers already typing out a response."Misery loves company, right? Although I have to say, you wear it well. I look like I got hit by a truck, but you still manage to look like a Calvin Klein underwear model."
I hit send before I could second guess myself, my heart racing in my chest. Was I flirting with him? I wasn't sure, but something about our easy banter felt natural, like we had known each other for years instead of just a few days.
"A model, huh?" he replied."I'll have to add that to my resume in addition to 'billionaire philanthropist and mental nutcase'. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
I snorted, shaking my head at his ridiculous joke."Oh definitely,"I typed back."I'm sure your family's business ventures and charitable pursuits won't be affected by this terrible selfie. Don't worry, I'll keep it nice and safe so no one else sees it but me."
His response popped up a few seconds later - a selfie of him in some ornate gilded room, eyes crossed and cheeks puffed out. The text below read:"You're one to talk, Bedhead! Some of us have to attend fancy meetings, I'll have you know. No rest for the wicked (or the wealthy)."
We continued to message back and forth, trading quips and jokes like old friends. For a moment, I forgot about my pounding headache and the fact that I had to be at work in a few hours. All that mattered was the easy rapport we had fallen into, the way his messages made me feel like I could be myself without fear of judgment.
I settled into my cubicle, logging into my computer and preparing for another day of soul-crushing work. But as I started sorting through the endless stack of claims, my phone buzzed with a new message from Harald.
Harald had sent a message hoping my morning was going well. He'd attached a selfie showing him lounging in his bed, wearing what looked like fancy pajamas.
I smiled at his message, noting again how attractive he was. I typed back, snapping a quick selfie of me rolling my eyes."Thanks, I'm just getting started but I'm pretty sure the day is going to be terrible as always. The hangover doesn't help either."
We continued to text throughout the morning, trading jokes and commiserating about our respective workdays. I shared anecdotes about my personal experiences, as well as the issues that weighed on my mind. I opened up about my background growing up in the foster care system, while he confided in me about his family and the mortifying mistake he had committed at a recent charitable event. Every time my phone buzzed with a new message, I felt a little thrill of excitement, eager to see what Harald had to say.
I glanced at the time on my computer. It was already almost noon here in New York,which meant it had to be the middle of the night in Copenhagen. I frowned, typing out a message to Harald.
