Halal Love: Beneath Her Veil
chapter 1
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The city of Seoul was alive with its usual nighttime rhythm — glimmering lights from high-rise buildings, the muffled sound of traffic, and the constant chatter of people drifting through the streets. It was a city that never truly slept, yet within its endless rush, there were moments where time slowed — moments so quiet, so significant, they settled into the soul like a soft prayer.
Inside a refined, high-end restaurant nestled in the heart of the business district, the atmosphere was calm and elegant. Soft jazz played in the background, crystal chandeliers hung above with a gentle glow, and the scent of freshly baked bread mixed with expensive perfumes lingered in the air.
Kim Taehyung walked in with an effortless grace that turned heads without trying. Tall at 177cm, his lean figure moved smoothly in a tailored charcoal suit, his dark brown hair tousled just enough to hint at rebellion beneath control. The staff recognized him instantly. Not just as a regular guest — but as *CEO Kim Taehyung*, the face and force behind the ever-rising Kim Corporation.
But tonight wasn’t about business.
It was family night.
By his side walked his older brother, **Kim Namjoon**, calm and intellectual as always, his hand gently resting on the back of his wife, **Kim Jin**, a warm-hearted woman with the kind of laugh that made people smile without realizing it. Skipping slightly ahead was their five-year-old daughter, **kim Jooni**, in a light pink dress and white sneakers, her plush bunny dangling from one hand.
Taehyung said as they waited at the entrance for the hostess to confirm their reservation.
Kim taehyung
Why do we always come to the same place?
Kim namjoon
Because Jooni likes the bread here,
Namjoon replied with a small smile. Jin chuckled and ruffled her daughter’s hair.
As the hostess greeted them, Taehyung turned slightly to answer a call buzzing in his suit pocket. Just then — it happened.
A light brush against his shoulder. A quiet *thump*.
He turned instinctively.
A woman, dressed in a flowing **black abaya** and wearing a **niqab**, had gently bumped into him while trying to walk past. Her gaze lifted for a split second, eyes wide — rich, warm brown, with a softness that struck something deep within him. She murmured an apology in a voice so quiet it felt like it was meant only for him.
She said, before lowering her gaze again and stepping away quickly.
The world resumed around him. Noise returned. But something inside Taehyung didn’t move.
He stared for a second longer in the direction she’d walked.
Her steps were light, her posture elegant. She blended into the restaurant like a secret — silent, composed, untouchable. No part of her face was visible except her eyes. But those eyes... they were *not* forgettable. They were the kind of eyes you could get lost in — not because they were seductive or mysterious, but because they felt safe. Soft. Almost sacred.
Namjoon called from a few feet ahead.
Taehyung blinked and nodded, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt before following his family to their table. But as he sat down beside Jooni, who immediately began showing him the bracelet she’d made earlier, he found himself... distracted.
His eyes scanned the room subtly. Table by table.
Looking.
Searching.
Who was she? A guest? A stranger? Someone passing through? Or someone... important?
He sipped the water that had been poured for him but barely tasted it. In a world where people constantly threw themselves in his path, looking to impress, flatter, or benefit — she had simply passed by without knowing who he was. Without trying to be seen. And somehow, that made her unforgettable.
Across from him, Jin leaned closer and whispered teasingly,
Kim seok-jin
You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Taehyung.
Kim taehyung
No… not a ghost.
Just a girl whose eyes spoke more than words ever could.
And as the night carried on, and the restaurant’s noise rose and fell like waves, Taehyung knew one thing:
This wasn’t the last time he’d think of her.
No… something told him — it was just the beginning.
*“Some souls recognize each other even before words are spoken.”*
chapter 2
The next day arrived gently, with golden sunlight pouring through the windows and the soft sound of the Adhan echoing across Seoul’s quiet morning streets.
It was **Friday** — *Jumu’ah* — and the Kim family made their way to the masjid as they did every week. Taehyung didn’t miss it unless he was overseas, and even then, he’d find a way. Today, though, he was fully present — wearing a traditional white kurta, his usually styled hair slightly tousled, eyes thoughtful beneath long lashes.
Beside him walked Namjoon, steady and composed in a navy blue thobe, carrying little Jooni in his arms. The five-year-old wore a pale lavender **hijab** wrapped loosely over her curls, decorated with tiny flower pins her mother had lovingly placed. She held a peeled banana in one hand, nibbling it with toddler seriousness.
Kim seok-jin
She insisted on eating it *right now*,
Jin whispered with a smile, adjusting her own soft beige hijab as they neared the gates of the masjid.
Kim namjoon
Let her enjoy,
Namjoon replied, chuckling.
Kim namjoon
She’s fasting in spirit.
Taehyung chuckled softly, but his mind wasn’t entirely in the conversation. Ever since last night at the restaurant, he’d been... restless. Her eyes kept appearing in his mind at random moments, like a verse he couldn't forget.
Would he ever see her again?
He didn’t even know her name. Just the calmness in her gaze. Just the softness of her “sorry.”
They entered the masjid’s courtyard, the men and women splitting into their respective sections. Jin walked with Jooni to the women’s entrance, planting a kiss on her daughter’s head before they disappeared inside.
The men’s prayer was peaceful, grounding. The imam spoke of patience, of qadr — destiny — and of the unexpected ways Allah brings people together. Taehyung closed his eyes at the end of the khutbah, whispering *ameen* under his breath.
And when the prayer ended, as the crowd slowly flowed back into the courtyard, men greeting one another with handshakes and warm smiles, Taehyung stood beside Namjoon, adjusting his sleeves.
Then, he saw her.
Not fully — just the eyes.
Those *same* eyes.
She was stepping out of the women’s section, walking gracefully beside Jin. The rest of her face hidden behind her niqab, her abaya swaying lightly with each step. But there was no doubt in Taehyung’s heart.
It was her.
His breath caught for a moment. Jin, as if sensing something, glanced toward her brother-in-law, then back to the niqabi girl beside her. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Without saying a word to the men, she gently leaned closer to the girl. Their conversation was quiet — only a few short sentences — but something in the girl’s posture softened. Her eyes flicked up briefly toward Taehyung. Then she nodded gently.
Jin whispered one last thing with a hand on the girl's arm and gave her a kind smile, before the girl turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with quiet dignity.
Taehyung stood still. His heart felt like it had stopped and started at the same time.
Jin approached him and Namjoon, brushing her hands together as if she’d just completed something important. She didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she kissed Jooni’s cheek, smiling at her hijab, then wiped a tiny smudge of banana from the girl’s lips.
Jooni giggled and pointed at her dad,
Kim jooni
Appa, I finished it!
Namjoon laughed, lifting her up again.
Taehyung couldn’t help but look at Jin, waiting for an explanation, *anything* — but she only glanced at him with a playful glint in her eye.
He started slowly, voice low,
Kim taehyung
Are you going to tell me who she is?
Jin smiled, but said nothing.
Instead, she straightened her bag on her shoulder and looked at both brothers.
Kim seok-jin
You two — be ready after Asr. We’re going somewhere.
Namjoon asked casually.
Jin turned and started walking toward the car.
Kim seok-jin
Somewhere important.
Taehyung stared after her, a strange mix of nervousness and hope bubbling in his chest. He had no idea what Jin had said to the girl… no idea what was about to unfold.
But in his heart, he knew something had shifted.
And this time, it wasn’t just a fleeting moment in a restaurant.
This… felt written.
*“Some meetings are not planned by people. They’re written by Allah.”*
chapter 3
The sun dipped low over Seoul as the **Kim family** stood quietly outside a gated villa nestled in a peaceful, upscale neighborhood. The sky glowed with warm streaks of orange and pink, casting long shadows along the smooth stone path that led to the grand wooden doors ahead.
Taehyung adjusted the cuff of his ivory kurta, trying to appear calm, but the subtle rise and fall of his chest betrayed his nerves. His older brother, Namjoon, stood beside him holding little Jooni, who had fallen asleep in his arms, her face nestled against his shoulder, still wearing her lavender hijab from earlier.
Jin, ever the graceful soul, rang the bell.
The villa resembled their own — elegant yet dignified, the kind of home that whispered luxury rather than shouted it. After a moment, the door opened, and a woman in a soft grey abaya and niqab greeted them warmly.
jeon yoona
Assalamu Alaikum, please come in,
She said softly, her voice warm and welcoming. This was Mrs. Jeon Yoona, the matriarch of the Jeon family.
As the family stepped inside, they were welcomed into a cozy yet elegant sitting area. The decor was minimal, tastefully arranged with light tones and Islamic calligraphy adorning the walls. A calm stillness filled the space — the kind that felt like it belonged to a house where salah was never missed, and peace lived in the corners.
Jin was the first to speak once they were seated.
Kim seok-jin
Alhamdulillah, it’s an honor to be here,
She began, smiling at Mrs. Jeon
Kim seok-jin
We come today not as strangers, but as a family who saw something… special. Respectfully, we’d like to place a proposal — for our youngest brother, Kim Taehyung, to marry your youngest daughter.
Taehyung looked down politely, his hands resting on his lap. He didn’t speak. His silence wasn’t from pride, but from deep respect. His gaze remained low, though he could feel the moment shift.
Mrs. Jeon’s eyes crinkled in a kind smile, and she nodded.
jeon yoona
Please wait just a moment.
She stepped out of the room, and silence fell — the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the gentle rhythm of Jooni’s breathing as she slept in her father's arms.
Then they heard soft footsteps.
Mrs. Jeon returned — this time with two other women, both wearing full abaya and niqab. One was tall, poised, and clearly older. The other…
Taehyung’s heart paused.
The other was *her*.
The girl from the restaurant. The girl from the masjid.
He recognized her instantly — not from her voice, or her name (which he still didn’t know), but from her *eyes*.
**Those eyes.**
Soft brown, shaped like almonds, with long lashes that curled naturally and gave her that wide-eyed innocence. She glanced toward him — curious, then shy — before quickly looking away, her gaze falling to the carpet.
The modesty in that moment made Taehyung’s chest ache in the best way.
*How can someone say so much with only their eyes?*
Mrs. Jeon spoke gently,
jeon yoona
This is my husband, Jeon Hoseok, and our daughter.
Her husband entered then — a kind-faced man with a calm demeanor. He nodded in greeting as he took his seat beside his wife.
Taehyung rose briefly and offered a soft salaam with his hand over his chest. Hoseok’s eyes studied him for a moment, then softened.
jeon hoseok
I’ve seen you at the masjid,
jeon hoseok
You lower your gaze. You walk quietly. That says a lot about a man these days.
Taehyung simply bowed his head, speaking humbly.
Kim taehyung
JazakAllah khair. I try.
A quiet moment passed. Then Hoseok smiled — warm and approving.
jeon hoseok
You seem like someone who values deen and character. But, of course, marriage is not a light matter. We’ll pray Istikhara, speak with our daughter privately, and, insha’Allah, give you our answer within **two days**.
Kim namjoon
We completely understand,
Namjoon replied. Jin smiled as she folded her hands politely.
The women rose to see them out. Taehyung didn't dare look again — not out of disinterest, but out of deep, practiced modesty. Still, he felt something unspoken pass between them. A kind of *knowing*. A whisper of possibility.
As the family stepped out into the dusk, the air now cooler with the coming night, Taehyung lingered just a little behind the others, his footsteps quiet.
And then — something made him turn.
There, behind the curtain of an upstairs window, a soft flutter of movement.
And then — something made him turn.
There, behind the curtain of an upstairs window, a soft flutter of movement.
And a pair of **boba eyes**.
Watching him.
Curious. Quiet. Not bold, but not afraid either.
They held his gaze for only a moment.
Then the curtain fell gently back into place.
He smiled to himself, heart thudding in a strange rhythm — half nerves, half hope.
Two days. Just two days.
But something in his chest already whispered, *This is her.*
*“Sometimes love begins not with words, but with eyes lowered in modesty.”*
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