THE PROBLEM WITH DANIEL STORM
587 Words
The Storm mansion looked like something out of a billionaire’s lifestyle magazine — marble floors that reflected light like mirrors, grand staircases spiraling into nowhere, chandeliers so bright they could blind you if you stared too long.
But right now, I wasn’t admiring the wealth.
I was admiring how quiet it was.
For once, Daniel Storm wasn’t in sight. No teasing, no smirk, no annoyingly perfect face hovering in my personal space.
And that, my dear diary of imaginary thoughts, was a win.
Daniella had dragged me here after school, despite my protests.
"Please, just one night! I’m dying of boredom in that huge house," she’d begged, clutching my arm like a koala.
I caved — partly because she was my best friend now, partly because I didn’t have anything better to do, and partly because… okay, maybe I liked the adrenaline rush of possibly running into her infuriating twin.
I had just dropped my bag in the guest room when Daniella called from downstairs.
"Hey! I need to find something in the kitchen. Go to my room, it’s upstairs—second door on the right!"
So I did.
And then…
Boom.
Door open.
Daniel Storm, shirtless, leaning casually against his desk like he was posing for a photoshoot he didn’t even know was happening.
I froze.
He didn’t.
Instead, his lips curled into that smirk.
"Wrong room, princess? Or did you just miss me?"
My brain was screaming get out, but my pride refused to let him win.
I threw my hands over my eyes — big mistake.
Because instead of letting me leave, he grabbed my wrist and tugged me forward.
"Daniel—!" I hissed.
"Relax," he chuckled, voice dripping with fake innocence. "Or are you afraid of a little… proximity?"
My hands, in my desperate attempt to push him away, landed on something solid.
Something warm.
Something suspiciously abs-like.
My brain short-circuited for a millisecond.
"Wow," he teased, glancing down. "Didn’t know you were this eager to feel me up."
That was it.
I shoved him so hard he stumbled back, grabbed the nearest pillow from his bed, and hurled it straight at his stupidly handsome face.
"Stay. Out. Of. My. Way," I snapped, storming off.
---
That night, Daniella and I binge-watched a trashy drama in her room until almost midnight. She eventually sent me to the guest room, claiming she’d fall asleep mid-sentence if I stayed.
I was halfway into my pajamas when I heard a knock.
"Come in!" I called absentmindedly.
The door creaked open.
Daniel.
Of course.
I grabbed my blanket instinctively — too late. His eyes flickered down, landing on the fact that my top was halfway off, my bra strap visible.
"Wow," he said slowly, voice low and amused. "Didn’t think I was your midnight fantasy."
"GET OUT!" I shouted, throwing a pillow.
He caught it with one hand, smirk never fading.
"Relax. Daniella told me to get you. She’s asking for you downstairs. But hey—" he stepped forward, ignoring my glare, "—if you’re trying to seduce me, you’re gonna have to do better than this."
"Daniel Storm," I warned, pointing a finger at him. "One more word and I’ll break your ribs."
"Tempting," he murmured, eyes glinting. "But we both know you won’t."
---
What I didn’t realize that night was this: for all the times I told myself Daniel and I were enemies…
I was starting to notice the way my pulse changed when he was near.
And that was dangerous.
- Writer
