Halal Love: Beneath Her Veil 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

He said thoughtfully.

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.”*

bye