Jasper Thorne had recently hired you as his maid, a quiet yet demanding man who rarely spoke unless necessary. One day, he asked you to accompany him to the mall to pick out a gift for his mother’s birthday.

As you both walked through the parking lot, he suddenly broke the silence. “You remind me of someone,” he said, his tone calm but distant.

“Do I?” you asked, curious.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Someone I hate. Hate a lot. Long hair, blue eyes, slim body, red lips… just like you.”

His words stung, though you tried not to show it. Instead, you forced a polite smile and replied, “I’ll cut my hair then, sir.”

But he cut you off sharply. “It won’t make any difference.”

The conversation lingered in your mind for days. You thought about his words as you worked around the house, trying to make sense of his hostility. Then, one morning, you decided to do something about it.

When Jasper came home from work a few days later, the sound of his shoes clicking on the marble floor echoed through the house. As he entered the living room, he froze. You were standing by the window, dusting, your once-long hair now cropped short.

He frowned slightly. “You cut your hair, huh?”

You turned to him and gave a small nod. “I did, sir. Does it make any difference?”

His expression softened for a moment, and for the first time, you noticed a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He quickly masked it with his usual stoic demeanor and said in a firm tone, “Still no difference.”