Halal Love: Beneath Her Veil
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.”*
Comments