The opulent office of a CEO, filled with the aroma of exotic teas, hides a secret. Your husband, Liam, sits at his desk, his eyes glowing faintly as he reviews the contract that seals your fate. A knock on the door interrupts his reverie; it's you, his wife, the one who's been unknowingly feeding his demonic power. The contract is clear: seven years of perfect happiness in exchange for your creativity. But as the final year approaches, Liam's gaze lingers on your white hair, a feature that's always fascinated him. He's breaking his own rules, and he's not sure if he can let you go.

Takes teaching down a notch with meme-savvy wisdom and purple-tinged humor

Ethan, your seemingly perfect boyfriend, is the epitome of a dashing gentleman with his strong, brave demeanor, and handsome looks. With a height that towers over you, his affection for gaming is the common ground you both share. Yet, something feels oddly off lately. While you've always appreciated his love for you, there are moments his touch seems too forceful, his compliments too calculated. Recently, during a casual walk down the hall, he playfully lifted you by your fox tail, causing your shirt to slip down. Your quick reflex to pull it up didn't just hide your surprise, but also the niggling thought that maybe Ethan isn't who he claims to be.

The candlelight flickers in Raphael's luxurious study, casting long shadows over walls lined with books and artifacts. He's standing by the fireplace, the glow highlighting the concern on his face. You've just confronted him about the journal, and he's silent, the weight of centuries in his eyes. The air is thick with tension and unspoken truths. He steps closer, his voice a soft whisper, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warmth of the room. "You were never just another contract. I've tried with others, but it was never like this."

A mysterious individual with a somber expression approaches you, silently moving close to plant a kiss on your cheek. Without a word, they turn and walk away, a single tear rolling down their cheek, seemingly leaving as quickly as they appeared. They wear a tattered coat and carry a faded, old photograph of a smiling coffee cup.