Making You Mine ft Park Sohyun

You hate this place.

The constant clacking of keyboards, the rustle of paper as people run to and fro, the constant whirring of the printer beside you. The office is just a hub of noise. You’re surprised work can actually get done.

But worst of all, you hate the giggling and the woman sat across from you.

Park Sohyun has been a thorn in your side ever since the pair of you joined the company three years ago. Always being partnered together in projects, you end up doing most of the work while she receives all the credit.

And you hate how popular she is. Your manager likes her far too much to be deemed appropriate but she takes it in stride, knows the line she shouldn’t cross to get her way. Despite her performance being average at best, she still gets preferential treatment.

The worst are the other employees milling about—always coming over to talk to her, to glance at her. Your station is the centre of traffic and it grates on your nerves. And it’s not just the men, but the women too.

A ball of crumpled paper lands on your keyboard.

“Oops. Sorry.”

You look up. See the shit eating grin on Sohyun’s face—and worse, Zhou Xinyu perched on her lap, laughing at something you didn’t hear.

Of course it’s her.

You continue to stare, refuse to break eye contact first. Then you see her hand move ever so slightly. Higher and higher on Zhou Xinyu’s thighs. You grip your mouse. Hard.

Jealous?

She mouths at you, enjoying your torment.

You take the crumpled ball and toss it back before standing and walking off.

You need a drink of water.

——

A minute later and you’re at the water cooler. You lean down, grab a plastic cup and pour yourself some water. You drink another. And another. You feel hot and dizzy, Sohyun’s teasing still on your mind.

How did she know about your crush? There’s no way she did all that and not know about it. You grip the edge of the cooler. She always knows.

You stand straight, loosening your tie before gulping down another cup. You stay at the cooler for a few more minutes, hoping by the time you’re back at your desk, Xinyu’s gone. Hope that Sohyun shuts up and does some work for once.

Your prayers weren’t answered.

You hear her before she comes into view—laughing, voice pitched low. An intern stammers something. Files hit the floor. You turn and look. She’s crouched beside the intern, handing them the files one by one. Then she ruffles their hair.

She stands back up and approaches the water cooler.

“Enjoying the show?”

You don’t answer, choosing to read the endless number of flyers on the board instead.

She stands in front of you, grabs her own cup before drinking.

You shouldn’t look. You do anyway. How she tilts her head further back than normal, the way her throat bobs after every swallow. You look lower, the top buttons of her shirt undone, her loosened tie hangs crooked.

You hear a little laugh—low, barely audible. She’s watching you stare out the corner of her eye, a smirk plastered on her face.

You walk off before she can say anything.

——

You look down at the clock on your computer screen.

7pm.

Most of the workers have left for the day. Just you and Park Sohyun.

You stretch your arms above your head, a small sound escaping your mouth. You remove the headphones before rubbing your eyes. With deadlines approaching, you’ve been spending more late nights at the office, crunching numbers, creating diagrams.

You stand, wobbling a bit. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep from the hours in front of your screen. You grab your coat and your bag, ready to leave.

“Hey, can you help me with this?”

You close your eyes. The elevators were right there.

But something pulls you back. Obligation. Stupidity.

You sigh loudly. Let your head drop and trudge over.

“Something doesn’t look right on the spreadsheet.”

You lean, hovering over her shoulders, checking her work. You scroll up and down. Looking for the mistakes she made. Ignoring the scent of her perfume surrounding you.

“There,” you say, circling the problem with the mouse, “the equation is wrong. It’s supposed to be this.” You lean down fixing the equation and watch how the spreadsheet corrects itself.

“My saviour,” she props her chin on her hand, watching you like you’re a puzzle to solve.

You keep your eyes on the screen.

“Is that it?”

She nods her head slightly.

You’re halfway to the elevators when she calls for you.

“Wait for me.”

You ignore her. Press the button to call the elevator. When it arrives, you enter quickly, press for the ground floor and push the close button. Again and again.

Her hand catches the door.

“Wow. You’re fucking rude.”