Hand in Pocket

Chapter 10 – Hand in Pocket

When they caught up with the group, nothing looked different.

Crystal was still talking.

Isabelle was still laughing.

Ivan was still calm.

Mina’s friends were still chatting.

But Aleem felt it anyway.

A quiet shift.

Like the world had rearranged itself around one simple truth.

Mina walked closer now.

Not because she needed protection.

Because she wanted to be near him.

Their hands stayed linked between them, low and hidden by coats. A secret warmth.

Crystal glanced back.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You look like you solved a life puzzle,” she hissed.

Aleem deadpanned. “It’s the river air.”

Crystal squinted harder. “That’s not river air. That’s–”

Isabelle reached out and gently hooked two fingers around Crystal’s sleeve like a leash.

“Crystal,” she said softly, “let them breathe.”

Crystal’s mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

Then she hissed, “Fine.”

Ivan’s gaze flicked to Aleem.

A silent question.

Aleem gave the smallest nod.

Ivan’s expression didn’t change.

But the corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly.

Approval.

Mina’s friends were a little less subtle.

Airi looked at Mina, then at Aleem’s lowered hand, then squealed quietly into her scarf.

Jun coughed, hiding a grin.

Mina pretended not to notice.

But her eyes crinkled above her mask.

Aleem didn’t say anything.

He didn’t want to turn the moment into a performance.

He wanted it to remain private.

Proper.

–

They walked toward a quieter street where small stalls were beginning to close and the scent of roasted sweet potato drifted through the air.

Crystal insisted on one last snack.

“One,” she said, holding up a finger. “Then we go back.”

Isabelle laughed. “One means five.”

Crystal pointed at her. “Don’t expose me.”

Mina’s friends bought warm bread. ABIX bought skewers.

Mina stood slightly to the side while people paid, hands tucked into her coat pockets.

Aleem noticed.

He leaned closer, voice low.

“You okay?”

Mina glanced at him.

Her eyes were soft.

She nodded.

Then she whispered, “Say it again.”

Aleem’s heart stumbled.

He kept his face calm.

“Which part?” he murmured.

Mina’s eyes narrowed like she was pretending to be stern, but the warmth behind it betrayed her.

“Don’t tease,” she whispered.

Aleem exhaled, almost a smile.

“I choose you,” he said quietly.

Mina’s breath hitched.

Her shoulders dropped like a weight released.

“Properly,” she reminded him.

Aleem’s chest warmed.

“Properly,” he repeated.

Mina’s eyes softened.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Aleem didn’t say it this time.

He just tightened his grip slightly–steady.

Airi called Mina’s name from the stall.

Mina looked over, then back at Aleem.

“Walk with me?” she asked.

Aleem nodded. “Always.”

The word slipped out before he could filter it.

Mina blinked.

Then her eyes crinkled again.

“Always?” she echoed.

Aleem swallowed.

He didn’t take it back.

“Yes,” he said. “Always.”

Mina looked down at their hands.

Then, without warning, she did something that made Aleem’s entire system short-circuit.

She tugged their joined hands gently toward his coat pocket.

“Here,” she whispered.

Aleem blinked. “What?”

Mina’s voice was quiet, practical, and somehow unbearably intimate.

“Too cold,” she said. “And… no one will see.”

Aleem’s throat went tight.

He nodded.

He let her guide.

Mina slid their joined hands into his coat pocket.

Warm fabric closed around them.

Their fingers were laced now, hidden, pressed against his side.

Mina leaned in slightly.

Her shoulder rested against his arm, casual enough that anyone watching would think she was just walking close to stay warm.

Only Aleem knew the truth.

That she was choosing closeness.

Without inviting the world.

Aleem’s breath caught.

Mina’s voice drifted up, private.

“Is this okay?” she asked.

Aleem’s heart fluttered.

“Yes,” he whispered. “More than okay.”

Mina made a small sound, like a laugh swallowed into her scarf.

“Good,” she murmured.

And then, because she was Mina and she had a quiet courage that surprised him, she added,

“I like when you’re… gentle.”

Aleem’s chest tightened so hard he almost forgot how to breathe.

He kept his face calm.

But his voice came out softer.

“I’m gentle with you because I want to be,” he said.

Mina’s fingers squeezed his once.

A little pulse of warmth in his pocket.

Aleem squeezed back.

–

They returned to their accommodations in two groups again–Mina’s friends to theirs, ABIX to theirs.

This time, the goodbye lingered.

Not because anyone forced it.

Because neither of them wanted to be the first to leave.

They stood under a streetlamp near the corner, breath fogging.

Mina’s friends waited a few steps away, pretending not to watch.

ABIX waited too, with varying degrees of subtlety.

Crystal was vibrating.

Isabelle looked soft and pleased.

Ivan pretended to check his phone.

Mina looked up at Aleem.

“Text me when you’re inside,” she said.

Aleem blinked. “You want to know I’m safe?”

Mina’s eyes narrowed playfully.

“Don’t tease,” she repeated.

Aleem exhaled, smiling this time–small, private.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll text.”

Mina’s gaze held his.

Then she said, quietly,

“And… thank you.”

Aleem’s chest tightened.

“For what?” he asked.

Mina’s voice was almost a whisper.

“For choosing me like I’m… just a person,” she said.

Aleem’s throat went tight.

He stepped closer, slow.

“Because you are,” he said.

Mina blinked.

Her eyes shone.

Aleem asked softly, “Can I?”

Mina’s breath hitched.

Then she nodded.

“Yes.”

Aleem lifted his free hand and gently adjusted her hood again, fingertips barely grazing fabric.

Then he leaned in and pressed a second kiss–still careful, still soft–this time to the edge of her mask, where her cheek would be.

A kiss that didn’t demand.

A kiss that simply said: I’m here. I’m staying.

Mina’s eyes widened.

Then softened.

She whispered, barely audible,

“That’s… unfair.”

Aleem blinked, amused. “Again?”

Mina’s eyes crinkled.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Because now I’ll think about it.”

Aleem’s heart fluttered.

“Good,” he murmured.

Mina stared.

Aleem’s voice dropped.

“I’ll think about you too,” he admitted.

Mina’s breath caught.

Then she nodded, as if sealing a pact.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Aleem echoed, “Okay.”

Mina hesitated.

Then she lifted her hand–gloved–and pressed it lightly to Aleem’s chest.

Not pushing.

Just… feeling.

As if confirming he was real.

“You’re warm,” she murmured.

Aleem’s throat tightened.

“So are you,” he said.

Mina laughed softly.

Then, finally, she stepped back.

“Go,” she said. “Text me.”

Aleem nodded.

He turned.

He walked two steps.

Then Mina called softly, “Aleem.”

He turned back.

Mina’s eyes were bright.

“Say it,” she whispered.

Aleem’s chest warmed.

“I choose you,” he said.

Mina’s smile turned so soft it made his heart ache.

“Properly,” she reminded him.

Aleem’s mouth curved.

“Properly,” he said.

Mina nodded once.

“Good,” she whispered.

And then she walked away.

Not running.

Not dramatic.

Just a normal pace.

But her shoulders looked lighter.

And Aleem stood for a second under the streetlamp, watching her go, hand still warm in his pocket like her fingers were still laced there.

He walked back to ABIX.

Crystal immediately attacked.

“DID YOU KISS?” she hissed.

Aleem stared. “No.”

Crystal narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying.”

Isabelle sighed, laughing softly. “Crystal–”

Ivan spoke calmly. “He did.”

Aleem glared. “Ivan.”

Ivan shrugged. “It was observable.”

Crystal made a strangled noise of joy.

Aleem exhaled, exhausted.

He went upstairs.

He locked the door.

He leaned against it like a man who had survived a different kind of horror room.

Then he took out his phone.

His fingers hovered.

He typed.

I’m inside. Safe.

He paused.

Then he added, honest and unguarded.

Still thinking about you.

He hit send.

The reply came almost immediately.

Me too.

A pause.

Then another message.

Good night, Aleem.

Aleem’s chest fluttered.

He typed back.

Good night, Mina.

He stared at the screen for a long beat.

Then he smiled.

Not small this time.

A real smile.

Because the warmth in his pocket wasn’t just leftover heat.

It was proof.

That he could be something else.

That he could be chosen too.

And that somewhere in Jeonju, a girl who wanted normal was walking home with lighter shoulders–

because he had stayed gentle.

Because he had chosen her.

Properly.