Our Universe- Episodes 3-4
When Old Dreams and New Responsibilities Collide
Episode 3 of Our Universe feels like that delicate middle ground where life refuses to stay tidy. Just when things seem structured, something shifts, and we’re reminded that healing is never linear.
The episode opens with Hyun-jin and Tae-hyung officially signing their roommate agreement. One month. That’s the boundary. It feels so practical, almost businesslike, as if putting it on paper might keep emotions contained. But of course, nothing about their situation is simple.
Tae-hyung makes a surprising choice at work. He asks for a full month of annual leave to care for Woo-joo while Hyun-jin starts her new job. There’s something quietly moving about that decision. It’s not grand or dramatic, just steady and responsible. His boss agrees on one condition: Tae-hyung must temporarily replace the company photographer for a motel shoot since the usual photographer has disappeared.
And just like that, Tae-hyung finds himself back behind the camera.
At the motel, fate nudges him again. He catches the attention of Jo Moo-saeng, manager to the famous photographer Amy Choo. Manager Jo offers him a generous one-day assisting job, but Tae-hyung refuses. He made a vow to leave photography behind, and you can feel how tightly he’s holding onto that promise. Sometimes letting go of a dream hurts less than risking it again.
Meanwhile, Hyun-jin begins her first official days at BS Food. The nervousness, the training sessions, the effort to appear capable and composed. It’s so relatable. But then comes the embarrassment. A coworker recognizes her from the viral video of Woo-joo causing chaos at the office. Over a thousand views. My heart truly sank for her. And as if that wasn’t enough, she realizes her team leader is Park Yoon-seong, her first love. He introduces himself politely, saying nothing about their shared past, which somehow makes it more loaded.
Back at home, life continues to test them. The boiler breaks, and the repair costs one million won. It’s money Hyun-jin simply doesn’t have. Watching them heat water on the stove to bathe Woo-joo feels both humbling and intimate. It’s such an unglamorous detail, but it says everything about where they are in life.
Tae-hyung tries to fix the boiler himself with help from a well-meaning neighbor who assumes he’s Hyun-jin’s boyfriend. That small misunderstanding lingers in the air. But the repair attempt fails, making things worse. Hyun-jin’s frustration spills over into a clumsy texting argument with Tae-hyung about what to send the landlord, and they accidentally send a rude image instead. It’s such a painfully funny moment in the middle of all the stress.
After days of cold showers, Hyun-jin starts falling sick. And this is where something shifts in Tae-hyung. Quietly, without making a big show of it, he accepts the one-day job assisting Amy Choo. He arranges babysitting for Woo-joo and contacts Manager Jo.
Watching him step back into photography feels bittersweet. On set, despite being warned not to speak up, he offers his opinion about the lighting. He says he can take the risk because he’s only there for one day. That line stayed with me. It’s brave in a small, wounded way. His friends remind him that Amy Choo used to be his idol, but he brushes it off as temporary.
At the office, Yoon-seong notices Hyun-jin is unwell and offers her a ride home. They finally acknowledge their shared history. A flashback reveals that he had once been on the verge of confessing to her, only for her to announce she was leaving for a language program. That almost-love hangs between them, gentle and unresolved.
When Hyun-jin returns home, she’s initially irritated by the mess, only to discover the boiler has been fixed. Tae-hyung paid for it. She offers to repay him in installments, but he tells her to let it go. It’s not dramatic. It’s simply kind.
They share a drink that evening, agreeing to get through the remaining month peacefully. It feels like a truce between two tired adults trying their best.
And then, the next morning, after far too many bottles of wine, they wake up in the same bed.
It’s not presented as sweeping romance. It feels messy, vulnerable, and very human. Just two people who are carrying too much, finding a brief moment of closeness.
If these first three episodes have shown us anything, it’s that Our Universe understands that love doesn’t arrive perfectly packaged. It grows in small acts of care, in shared burdens, in quiet sacrifices. And I find that incredibly comforting.
Rain, Regret, and the Things We Don’t Say
Episode 4 of Our Universe feels like standing in the rain without realizing you’re already soaked. Everything is soft and tender on the surface, but underneath, emotions are quietly overflowing.
We begin right where Episode 3 left us, Hyun-jin and Tae-hyung waking up in the same bed, both equally horrified. The flashback to their wine-filled night makes it less scandalous and more heartbreakingly human. They weren’t reckless. They were grieving. In Tae-hyung’s room, he showed her his photography award, and she broke down crying over her sister. It wasn’t passion that brought them there. It was loneliness. They immediately vow to stay away from alcohol in the future, which honestly feels like the most adult response possible.
Naturally, they both turn to their friends. Se-yeon teases Hyun-jin, asking if she now sees Tae-hyung as a man. Hyun-jin brushes it off, but you can tell something has shifted. Tae-hyung’s friends ask him if he finds her pretty. He pretends not to think about it, but when they’re back home, the air between them feels different. They’re hyper-aware of each other now. Every glance lingers just a little longer.
Life doesn’t pause for awkward tension, though. At work, Hyun-jin is once again reminded of the viral video that refuses to die. But there’s progress too. The team begins pursuing GloMarket, a client who previously rejected Yoon-seong’s proposal. When he sees Hyun-jin’s thoughtful research, he entrusts her with drafting the new proposal. Watching her step up like that made me so proud. She’s finally being seen for her competence.
Meanwhile, Tae-hyung continues navigating this new domestic life. He runs into his neighbor Bae Du-sik and his mother, Park Ae-ja, adding a bit of neighborhood warmth to the story. At home, Hyun-jin asks if he can watch Woo-joo for a few extra hours while she focuses on the proposal. He agrees, albeit reluctantly, and she throws herself completely into work.
One of the most beautiful moments in this episode comes quietly. Tae-hyung notices the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of Hyun-jin’s bedroom, the room she still can’t sleep in. The flashback that follows is devastating. Drunk and vulnerable, she once told him about the basement apartment she shared with her sister, how it flooded during the rains, and how Hyun-joo turned cleaning mold into a game by rewarding each spot with a glowing star. It’s such a small, loving detail. She remembers the kimchi pancakes her sister used to make and breaks down over the cruel words she spoke before their last fight. That room holds too much guilt for her to rest in it.
When it begins to rain in the present, Tae-hyung quietly makes kimchi pancakes for her. It’s such a gentle act of care. No speeches. Just flour, kimchi, and memory.
But outside, complications are brewing. Yoon-seong asks Hyun-jin to stay late to refine the proposal and offers to drive her home. She continues to avoid telling him the truth about where she lives or what happened to her sister. You can sense how much she’s compartmentalizing her grief.
Tae-hyung waits for her at the bus stop with an extra umbrella, only to witness Yoon-seong dropping her off and handing her his own. The jealousy on Tae-hyung’s face is subtle but unmistakable. And yet, when Hyun-jin sees him standing there in the rain for her, and later finds the pancakes waiting at home, her expression softens in a way that feels deeply earned.
Then comes another turning point. Amy Choo’s photoshoot is published, and she publicly credits Tae-hyung. Hyun-jin proudly buys the magazine and congratulates him. When Amy calls, bluntly telling him to bring his camera the next day, he hesitates. A flashback reminds us of the old camera his brother once gave him, how much photography meant to him. He insists it was just a phase, but we know better.
Hyun-jin encourages him to go, to rediscover what photography still means to him. It’s such a supportive moment. She doesn’t push. She simply believes in him.
But once again, timing is cruel. She promises to come home early, only to be pulled into more late-night work with Yoon-seong at a hotel near the airport. Their conversation drifts back to college, to nights spent working together. When he admits he stayed up just to spend time with her, there’s an undercurrent of unresolved affection.
At the same time, Tae-hyung brings Woo-joo to the photoshoot. Amy tests him, demanding printed shots within three hours. In the chaos, Woo-joo falls and gets hurt. Tae-hyung rushes him to the hospital, and when asked for the child’s guardian, he calls Hyun-jin. She doesn’t answer. Watching him stand there alone with an injured child is heartbreaking.
By the time she arrives, Woo-joo is treated and asleep. Tae-hyung’s frustration explodes. He tells her she can’t even manage herself, much less a baby. His words are harsh, and you can see them land painfully. Later, the doctor gently reminds them that children sense emotional tension. Woo-joo’s injury may heal, but his stress is something they need to consider seriously.
The next morning, Tae-hyung regrets what he said. He brings food home, an unspoken apology in paper bags.
And just as they sit down to eat, the doorbell rings.
It’s Yoon-seong.
And he’s their landlord.
Just when we think the emotional lines are already tangled, the drama quietly ties another knot.
This episode felt like rain on bruised skin. Tender, complicated, and impossible to ignore.
DramaZen's Opinion
Slow Burn, Softer Hearts
Episodes 3 and 4 of Our Universe made me fall even deeper into this story. What I love most is how the drama handles intimacy and conflict in such a human way. The night Hyun-jin and Tae-hyung end up in the same bed isn’t treated as some dramatic turning point. It’s messy, emotional, and rooted in grief. That feels so honest.
I also appreciate how their relationship is changing in subtle ways. The glances linger a little longer. The jealousy is quiet but noticeable. And the care they show each other, like Tae-hyung fixing the boiler or making kimchi pancakes in the rain, speaks louder than any confession could.
At the same time, the outside world is pressing in. Yoon-seong returning as both first love and landlord is such a layered complication. And the hospital scene with Woo-joo was heartbreaking. It was a sharp reminder that their emotional tension doesn’t just affect them. It affects him too.
These episodes feel like the calm before something bigger. The feelings are there, just under the surface, waiting. And I’m completely invested in watching them figure it out, slowly and imperfectly.
