The moonlight, coquettish and enchanting, seeped through the floor-to-ceiling window, sprinkling over the waterbed that was round like a full moon.

The pale purple bed curtain was pulled up, gently caressed by the breeze, weaving a ripple over its soft fabric.

She didn't turn on the light.

That man, she knew him as well as she knew her own body.

His chilliness, his arrogance, his proud gaze that looked down upon everything, she knew them all too well.

And also…his kiss.

He always loved to kiss her. At first, it was as if he was capture a city and plunder a land, then as gentle as spring rain, always causing her to unwittingly lose consciousness and sink with him.

The door creaked softly.

He was here.

Her husband of three months.

Yet, she felt as if these three months were as long as a century.

Without too much conversation, he would undress, get into bed. He came back just for this; he hardly spoke.

The pale purple bed curtain was pulled down, scattered messily on the pure white carpet; within this pile of soft bed curtains, two intertwining figures lay.

Everything about this entranced him.

She knew, he enjoyed her in this state, no longer coldly pushing him thousands of miles away.

Yet, this fondness could only last until the end of this indulgence.

Once dawn breaks, they would return to their previous positions, for this was only a pact for the night.

She turned her face away, her amber eyes half-closed as she gazed at the specks of moonlight outside the window. On the windowsill, there was a pre-arranged divorce agreement. This was their last night, and tomorrow, she would give herself a brand new world.

She slowly raised her hand, gently touching her left ear, and smiled, dimples just beginning to form on her cheeks.

Suddenly, his kiss assaulted her tiny dimples; her heart trembled violently. Flustered, she turned her face to look at him.

His eyes, as cold as an ice sea, were deep and stared intently into hers.

"Eliza."

She "heard" him calling her name.

Also, she saw him say, "No divorce, there won't be a divorce."

She abruptly widened her eyes and pushed him away from her. His eyes were smiling, but it was a cold and cruel smile.

The divorce agreement, consisting of only thirty-seven words, was torn to shreds by him.

Piece by piece, like the wings of butterflies, flew down from the 29th floor window. He had torn it so thoroughly that the sky was filled with these wings of despair.

"Eliza, remember, what I detest the most is being led by others. What I love the most is laying the path for others... or a chasm."

So, nothing had escaped his eyes.

Everything had come full circle.

The destiny that has been arranged long ago is something that cannot be escaped.

"Eliza, is there anything else you want to know?"

He lifted her face and smiled, his voice was as clear as the wind outside the window.

There is too much that she wants to know.

She squinted her eyes once again, finally choosing to remain silent. Who is whose trap, who is whose abyss, who is whose poison; who knows until the very end?