Chapter 96 : do you like my hair?

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 : do you like my hair?

Dean wasn’t simply angry at the situation.

He was angry at himself.

This wasn’t him. The whole mess was so far outside his usual control that it felt almost surreal.

Flashback....

He watched her sit there in the canteen, feeding Enzo, then Reid, and spent the whole time feeling this sharp, restless knot in his chest. Total, out-of-nowhere jealousy. She didn’t once look his way or offer him a bite with the same spoon. By the time they finally cleared out, that little snub felt like a fresh bruise sitting right under his skin.

He had gone straight to the bathroom afterward, bracing both hands on the sink and staring hard at his own reflection. Searching for whatever it was she might not like.

People always noticed his hair first—especially women. Those long silver strands caught everyone’s eye before they even looked at his face. But Amelia never made a big deal out of it like the others did. Only her other self had ever commented on it with any real familiarity.

Is it the color?

Am I simply not her type?

The thought of cutting it short like his brothers had crossed his mind for a brief, ridiculous second. He couldn’t do it. The length was part of him. But changing the color... that felt possible. Something he would actually do if it meant earning even a flicker of approval from her.

He had ordered the servants to bring a new treatment—something that would turn the silver-black to a warmer brown. When the bottles finally showed up, he couldn’t wait. He just wanted to get it done fast, walk out there, and catch her reaction—even if it was just a tiny shift in expression.

He hadn’t followed the instructions carefully enough.

Back to the present...

Now, standing in the hallway with the chemical stench clinging to him and the ruined color impossible to ignore, the only person he could blame was himself. Under normal circumstances, someone would already be bleeding for a mistake of this scale. But he can’t blame anyone but himself.

And the way Amelia was looking at him—surprised, faintly horrified, and far too honest—only made the knot on his chest feel ten time heavier.

Dean couldn’t form a single reply.

He turned on his heel and strode back into his room, shutting the door harder than necessary. The last thing he wanted was for Amelia to keep looking at him like that. The humiliation sat thick in his throat.

Madame stared at the closed door for a second before rounding on the nearest servant.

"What exactly happened?"

The servant looked miserable. "Lord Dean requested a dye treatment to change his hair color. It appears he didn’t follow the instructions properly... and this was the result."

Madame’s eyebrows rose in genuine disbelief.

"Dean? Changing his hair color? He has always been proud of it. This is extremely strange."

A thoughtful look crossed her face. She turned to Amelia.

"You should help him."

Amelia blinked. "I don’t know anything about fixing this kind of hair damage."

Madame made a soft, impatient sound.

"Come now. You have beautiful hair of your own which i am sure you take good care of, and you are the only person he is likely to allow near him right now. If you think I’m exaggerating, go prove me wrong."

Amelia understood perfectly well what Madame was actually implying. And she also didn’t want to refuse the second time. She gave a short nod.

"Fine."

"Wonderful." Madame immediately directed the servants. "Go find whatever is needed to correct the damage and give Miss Amelia clear instructions."

The servants hurried off. Madame then gave Amelia a small, encouraging push toward Dean’s door.

"Go on. I doubt he will bite."

Amelia was far less convinced.

He might not bite... but in this state he could easily lock me in, force me to even shave my head to make himself feel better.

She immediately corrected herself under her breath.

If he even thinks about touching my hair, I’ll shave his instead. Or give him a mohawk. We’ll see how he likes that.

Amelia pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room felt unusually heavy, the curtains drawn and the light dim. Dean was crouched on the far side of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, ruined hair hanging forward as he stared at the floor.

She crossed the room quietly.

Seeing him like this sent an unexpected twinge of pain through her chest.

Miserable and Dean.

Those were two words she had never imagined belonging in the same sentence.=

Dean had clearly noticed her presence, but he didn’t look up.

"Leave."

Amelia pinched her nose shut with two fingers, voice slightly muffled.

"I wish I could. But I’m not that heartless. I actually want to help."

"You can’t do anything. I smell terrible."

"Yeah," Amelia said without missing a beat. "You smell like a chemical factory had a passionate one-night stand with a wet dog and then died of regret in a dumpster."

Dean’s shoulders tensed so hard it looked like he was trying to fold himself into a smaller shape.

Amelia softened almost immediately.

"I’m joking. You don’t smell that bad. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Turns out I’m terrible at making people feel better."

A knock at the door saved her from the awkward situation.

Amelia crossed the room at once and opened it. A servant stood there with a bag, quietly explaining the contents and the exact steps needed to reverse the damage. Amelia listened carefully, nodded, and took the bag before closing the door again.

She set it on the bed and turned back toward him.

"Don’t you want to wash it off?"

Dean still said nothing.

Amelia hesitated, then spoke more quietly.

"I know it’s not really my business... but why did you try to dye your hair?"

Dean’s fingers tightened against his own arms. He muttered something low and indistinct.

Amelia leaned in slightly. "I can’t hear you."

He finally lifted his head. "Don’t you prefer guys who have that kind of hair color?"

Amelia blinked, genuinely thrown.

"What? Where did you get that idea?"

His eyes met hers. The usual cold edge was gone, replaced by something so pitiful. The sight of it made her heart skip.

"You like those hair colors..."

"...That’s why you fed Enzo and Reid... and left me out of it."