It seems today, Technology rules the world. Staring at screens, Instead of a piece of paper. Pens are not picked up, Unless it's to sign on the dotted line. Emails and texts became the norm, No one cares for snail mail. Though it might be good, To get something handwritten.

The hushed reverence of the bookstore was a balm to Liam Darcey's soul. Now in his mid-forties, he moved with a practiced, almost invisible grace between the towering shelves, the familiar solitude his constant companion. He sought a rare first edition of a philosophical book, a pursuit as solitary and intellectually rigorous as his life had become.  He found the volume tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the store, just as a woman on the opposite side of the same aisle reached for a collection of poetry.

The glass of the 1667 ft tall skyscraper wasn't just cold; it was slick with the persistent humidity of a typical Taiwanese summer night. Alexia didn't use ropes for what she's about to accomplish. Ropes were for those who planned on falling, and Alexia had decided long ago that gravity was a battle she intended to win. She reached for the ledge on the first floor of the Taipei 101, her fingers finding the architectural grooves where the massive steel plates met.

The neon hum of the city's bustling lights usually felt like home to Jeon-hoon, but tonight the air tasted of ozone and expensive cologne. Beside him, Kim-yeong adjusted her jacket, her eyes scanning the crowd with the precision of a hawk. Her husband was looking for a human to strike a deal with, but the two figures leaning against a matte-black sedan weren't exactly looking to make a deal with a demon.

The fluorescent lights of the Smithsonian Forensics lab hummed with an indifferent clinical buzz, but inside Dr. Erin Brenan's office, the air was thick and suffocating. Joseph stood by the glass wall, his back to the skeletal remains of their latest case. He looked smaller than usual, the broad shoulders of his suit jacket sagging under an invisible weight. "Joseph?" Erin asked, her brow furrowed.

The warehouse was dark, save for the blue glow of the server stacks and the light over Elias's workstation. He was sitting with his back to the door, staring at a static screen, looking smaller than he ever had. The heavy metal door groaned loudly as Kathrine pushed it open. Elias stiffened, his shoulders squaring instinctively as she entered.  "The average dinner duration is two hours and fifteen minutes," Elias said, his voice sounding hollow.

The day we first met, Snow was falling gently. A snowflake fell onto the windowpane, Though it instantly melted away. Your eyes reflected the soft blizzard, As the earth was covered in white. My heart aches that our meeting, Became love and memories. Don't forget me, Even if we disappear.

Feel like losing myself, For this is the end. Cannot find a way, To not lose you for good. No wonder, I am still in Hell. The moment has come, Time to make a choice. Couldn't help but think, It's quite complicated. What should I do, Tell me the truth.

The iron hinges of the large wooden gate didn't groan as they used to; someone had oiled them while Kaelen was away fighting for her homeland. She stepped through the threshold, her boots clicking against the cobblestones. The sound was sharp, a stark contrast to the muffled thud of mossy forest floors and the unsettling silence of the Ashlands. She looked the part of a saviour, though she felt more like a ghost.

The porcelain plates at the Kang family estate were as cold as the atmosphere. Kim-yeong sat rigidly, her spine a perfect line of defiance, while Jeon-hoon lounged beside her with an air of bored elegance that only a two-hundred-year-old demon could master. "Must you tap your fingers like that?" Kim-yeong hissed under her breath while giving her husband a death glare.

In a small bedroom, a young woman held her breath, fearing that a single exhale would ruin the pristine glass of her brand-new lavender smartphone. With the precision of a diamond cutter, she lowered the tempered glass protector kit onto the device. It made contact. The adhesive spread like a slow-moving tide—until it reached the edge. There, right at the edge of the screen, sat a tiny, defiant orb of air.

It's the beginning of the end as this fun and cozy K-drama comes to a close. It has been quite the roller coaster ride as we watch our two favourite couples grow and stand together as united fronts. There are still some loose ends to tie up, but like most K-dramas, it's going to be a happy ending. The episode starts with Tae-Ri basking in the afterglow of their passionate lovemaking the night before.

The restaurant was one of those quiet, upscale bistros where the lighting was dimmed to hide the rest of the world. Across the table, Matthew was recounting a story about his time in the Navy, but Kathrine couldn't hear him as the words that Elias had said earlier played over and over in her mind like a broken record. "I am rooting against the numbers," Kathrine repeated under her breath.

The confrontation between Chairman Kang and Ha-ri continues. The former remains adamant that Ha-ri end her supposed relationship with Tae-moo to avoid a scandal. Young-seo also runs into a similar roadblock with her father when he meets Sung-hoon for the first time, and things are about to get spicy for Tae-Ri as they make their relationship official. While I understand where Chairman Kang is coming from when he told Ha-ri to stop seeing Tae-moo to avoid any serious scandals, he didn't allow Ha-ri to explain herself and say to him that, apart from the lie, she has come to genuinely care for Tae-moo and is falling for him.

The digital floor indicator flickered, a rhythmic heartbeat in the quiet of the lobby of the apartment building. As the elevator doors hissed shut, sealing Kim-yeong and Jeon-hoon inside the brushed-steel apparatus, the professional distance they'd maintained all morning at the office evaporated. Jeon-hoon didn't wait for the elevator to clear the third floor. He reached out, his fingers hooking into the lapel of Kim-yeong's coat to pull her flush against him.

Hated the buzzing needle, With a heated passion. Shuddering at the thought, Of having permanent ink on skin. Yet one tends to be impulsive, When alcohol comes into play. Didn't feel a single thing, While lying on the chair. Through hangover's throbbing pain, Comes the regret of the drunken tattoo.

Fates seem to intertwine, No matter where and when. Two souls destined to meet, Enveloped by the cocoon of love. Though they're from different worlds, Their affections remain unchanged. She may be an ordinary human, Yet she knows the price. For she has given her heart, To a centuries-old demon.

The music wasn't a song so much as a hum—a low, rhythmic pulse that seemed to vibrate directly out of the floorboards of the living room. There was no orchestra, only the melody of an old favourite song playing on the gramophone. Jeon-hoon reached out, his hand finding Kim-yeong's waist. She fell into him with the practiced ease of a book returning to its favourite shelf.

The tension in the royal hall was thick. The cooking competition between the palace cooks and the ones from the Ming had ended. The palace cooks emerged victorious, much to the shock and anger of the Chief Ming Envoy. Though the latter's rage soon morphed into cunning as he informed the King that he would only accept one item as tribute instead of the agreed amount.

The large office above the theatre felt colder than usual, despite the ambient warmth of the city's skyline shimmering through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Jin-young—known to the world as the brilliant dancer Evangelina—stood by the window, her reflection a sharp contrast to the swirling emotions beneath her poised exterior. She was used to being the center of gravity. When she danced, eyes followed her every movement.

It's the calm before the storm as Tae-Ri's romance grows. Young-seo also finds out about Sung-hoon's backstory and discovers the brotherly bond between her boyfriend and Kang Tae-moo. Chairman Kang makes some discoveries of his own and takes matters into his own hands, issuing Ha-ri an ultimatum. The highlight of the episode has to be Tae-Ri's rainy-day date. I love how Ha-ri did whatever she could to distract Tae-moo from the rain, which triggers his childhood trauma of witnessing his parents' car accident, by taking him to a flower shop and on a subway ride (I half-expected Tae-Ri to kiss after a random guy accidentally pushed Tae-moo closer to Ha-ri, but alas, it didn't happen).

The tension in the barbecue restaurant was so thick one could cut it with a chainsaw. Everyone is on their best behaviour in the presence of their boss. No one dared to relax as the aforementioned boss grilled the sliced, marinated pork to perfection. "It's not every day that our busy CEO has the time to come to a place like this with his employees," one of the senior-level employees said with a forced laugh.

When starting a relationship with someone you love, it can feel like a honeymoon that never ends. Missing each other desperately when you're apart and never letting each other go once you're near one another. Though in Tae-Ri's case, they would have to keep their happiness under wraps, since no one knows about them. Not even Chairman Kang, who thinks that his grandson is seeing Young-seo's cousin.

The abandoned warehouse was uncharacteristically quiet, the hum of the servers providing a low-frequency backdrop to Elias's internal struggle. He was staring at a monitor, but the lines of code had blurred into a singular, mocking image of Naval Lieutenant Matthew Carter's smug smile. Logically speaking, Matthew was handsome, capable, and—most frustratingly—emotionally accessible. He was the better choice as a romantic partner for Kathrine.