Tales Of The Heart | (G)i-dle

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

Shuhua hated the way Soojin laughed at his jokes.

Not because they were good — they weren’t. Matt’s sense of humor hovered somewhere between dad-joke and painfully corny, but somehow, Soojin would toss her head back and laugh like he was Dave Chappelle. Or maybe just like she was trying to make sure everyone saw how into him she was.

Including Shuhua.

Matt had been Shuhua’s quiet crush since last fall. They worked in different departments — she was in branding, he was in marketing — but they'd shared more than a few lingering glances, too-long hallway chats, and coffee runs that felt suspiciously date-adjacent. He was sweet. Predictable. The kind of guy Shuhua could imagine bringing home for Lunar New Year without her mom asking a million questions.

And then Soojin joined the team.

New creative director. Sharp jaw, sharper tongue. Tattoos creeping just below shirt sleeves, always half-buttoned. She wore bold lipstick like armor and made a statement in every room she entered without saying a word. She had this disarming charm — part devil, part daydream — that made everyone pay attention. Especially Matt.

It made Shuhua feel small. Invisible.

They never said it out loud, but there was tension between them from the start — like two planets orbiting too close. Too much heat, not enough space.

It all came to a head at Matt’s birthday party.

It was a Friday night. Loud bar downtown, pulsing music, bodies pressed too close in a space too small. Shuhua had tried to cancel three times, but her roommate had threatened her with bodily harm if she didn’t go.

She wore all black — safe, unassuming — and downed her first drink too fast.

Soojin was already there, draped across a corner booth like she owned it. Black blazer, smoky eye makeup, and the kind of smirk that made Shuhua’s stomach twist in a way she tried to ignore. Her legs were crossed with practiced elegance, and her hand rested on Matt’s shoulder just a little too casually.

Shuhua rolled her eyes and turned toward the bar, ordering another gin and tonic with extra lime — and extra patience.

She didn’t notice Soojin approach until a warm voice spoke just behind her.

“You know, if looks could kill, Matt would’ve dropped dead twenty minutes ago.”

Shuhua turned. “Excuse me?”

Soojin grinned. “You’ve been glaring at him like you want him to spontaneously combust.”

“Maybe I just don’t like his tie.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Soojin leaned in, her voice lower now. “You know, if you want to make a move, now’s your chance.”

Shuhua scoffed. “Oh, and you’re just here as his personal wingwoman?”

Soojin tilted her head. “Who said I’m into him?”

A beat of silence.

Shuhua blinked. “Wait. You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve been flirting with him all month.”

Soojin sipped her drink. “I haven’t. I’ve been flirting with you.”

Silence.

The music and crowd faded for a second as Shuhua processed that. “You—what?”

Soojin gave her that smirk again, softer now. “Yeah. And judging by the way you’re blushing right now, I think I haven’t been completely wasting my time.”

Shuhua stared, mouth slightly open. Her drink was suddenly warm in her hand. “I—uh—what?”

Soojin laughed. “Want to get out of here?”

And against every rule she had made for herself about enemies and office drama and Matt and logic — Shuhua nodded.

-♡-

Soojin’s apartment was exactly what Shuhua imagined — minimalist but messy, with plants hanging from the ceiling and candles burning even when no one was watching. There was music playing softly in the background. Vinyl. Jazz, maybe.

Shuhua sat on the couch while Soojin poured them wine in mismatched glasses.

“Still think I was after Matt?” Soojin asked, handing her one.

Shuhua shook her head, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”

“Well,” Soojin said, settling beside her, “maybe you should stop thinking.”

The kiss happened fast — like a breath, like a decision her body made before her mind could interfere. It started cautious, testing. But when Soojin’s hand slid into her hair and pulled her closer, it shifted — heat rushing in, lips parting, mouths opening, something deeper unfolding.

Shuhua gasped when Soojin pulled her onto her lap, straddling her. Their bodies pressed together in perfect fit, perfect friction. Soojin’s hands roamed — waist, hips, up the back of her shirt. Shuhua’s legs tightened around her instinctively.

“You’re warm,” Soojin whispered, her lips brushing Shuhua’s ear. “You feel good.”

Shuhua moaned softly, barely realizing she was rocking against her. “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

Soojin grinned. “And you’re so uptight. It's kind of hot.”

They stumbled toward the bedroom, pulling at each other’s clothes, mouths never parting for long. The bed welcomed them in tangled sheets and bare skin. Soojin took her time — lips tracing collarbones, hands moving with intention, devotion, curiosity.

Shuhua trembled when Soojin slid down between her thighs, eyes locked with hers the whole time, and kissed her like worship. Soft, slow, deep — until Shuhua forgot her name, forgot Matt, forgot everything except the way Soojin made her fall apart.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was surrender. It was a wildfire built from months of friction, of not looking, of looking too long

And when it was over — when they lay side by side, breathless, hearts racing — Soojin reached out and intertwined their fingers without a word.

---

Morning light poured through the windows, golden and soft. Shuhua blinked awake to the feeling of Soojin’s arm around her waist, their legs still tangled.

“Hey,” Soojin said sleepily. “Still think I’m the enemy?”

Shuhua buried her face in the pillow. “Ugh. Don’t make me say it.”

Soojin chuckled, kissing her bare shoulder. “Say what?”

“That I misjudged you.”

Soojin leaned over, tracing circles on Shuhua’s skin. “It’s okay. I was kind of a bitch, too.”

“You were insufferable.”

“You were jealous.”

Shuhua groaned. “I was not—okay, maybe a little.”

They laughed. Quiet, content. And then Shuhua asked, hesitantly:

“So… what does this mean?”

Soojin didn’t answer right away. She just looked at her — really looked. No smugness, no games.

“I think it means,” she said slowly, “that maybe fate has better taste than we do.”

Shuhua smiled. “Think Matt’ll be mad?”

Soojin smirked. “Let him think he was the prize.”