No Alcohol
Chapter 5 — No Alcohol
Lunch stretched the way good moments did—longer than they should have, softer at the edges, made of small laughter that didn’t demand anything from anyone.
The bibimbap bowls emptied into warm silence. Someone ordered mandu to share. Someone else decided, irresponsibly, that dessert was necessary because fear calories didn’t count.
Aleem sat with his back half-turned to the window, not because he wanted to be paranoid, but because he’d already learned something about Mina:
Normal was something you built.
It didn’t just happen.
The restaurant began to fill as the afternoon thickened. A few tables glanced at them—nothing obvious, nothing dramatic. Just quick looks, the kind people gave when they sensed something slightly different.
Mina’s friends kept the atmosphere light anyway. They talked, they teased, they told stories that made Mina laugh and shake her head like she’d heard them too many times.
ABIX matched the energy easily.
Crystal was in her element—social, bright, conversational glue.
Isabelle listened more than she spoke, but when she did, it was gentle, precise, the kind of warmth that made people lean in without realizing.
Ivan sat with that quiet composure Aleem trusted—watchful, calm, never escalating anything.
And Aleem…
Aleem tried to act like this wasn’t absurd.
Tried to act like he hadn’t once watched Mina through screens and thought she belonged to a world he could never touch.
Now she was right here, picking at a piece of kimchi with her chopsticks, chewing thoughtfully like she had all the time in the world.
When she looked up and caught him watching, Aleem immediately reached for something safe.
Water.
He drank.
Mina’s lips curved.
She didn’t call him out.
She just let the moment exist.
—
After the food, the table fell into that loose, happy lull where people became bolder.
One of Mina’s friends—Jun, the Korean guy—leaned back in his chair and said something in Korean that made everyone laugh.
Mina translated lightly. “He says… we should play games.”
Crystal’s eyes lit up. “Korean games?”
Mina nodded. “Yes. Ice-breaker games. Like…” She gestured, searching for the English. “When you eat together.”
Isabelle smiled. “That sounds fun.”
Ivan’s expression didn’t change. “I am not good at games.”
Crystal scoffed. “You’re good at everything. Don’t lie.”
Ivan blinked once. “That is inaccurate.”
Crystal leaned toward Mina’s friends conspiratorially. “He’s very scary when competitive.”
Ivan’s eyes flicked to her. “I’m not competitive.”
Aleem watched Mina’s expression as she listened.
She seemed… relaxed.
Not performing.
Not bracing.
Just present.
And it did something to Aleem.
It made him want to protect this version of the day.
The games began simple.
A word-chain game in Korean that had Crystal struggling and laughing at herself.
A rhythm clap game that Mina was surprisingly good at—hands moving fast, precise.
A “truth or dare” variant that Isabelle gently steered away from anything too intrusive.
It felt normal.
Until Jun grinned and said something that made Mina’s friends burst into mischievous laughter.
Mina’s eyes widened slightly. “Ah… no.”
Crystal leaned forward. “What? What?”
Mina laughed softly. “They want to play the drinking game. But… no alcohol.”
Crystal’s face fell in exaggerated disappointment. “Aww.”
One of Mina’s friends—a Japanese girl named Airi—waved her hand. “Not real drinking. Just rules. Fun!”
Jun added in English, “Penalty. Like… one sip. But we can do soda.”
Crystal looked tempted. “Soda is fine.”
Aleem’s spine stiffened.
He didn’t know why the idea of Mina drinking anything “penalty-based” made his chest tighten.
It wasn’t even alcohol.
But the energy of it—the way people got rowdy, careless, less aware of boundaries—felt too close to a line he didn’t want Mina to cross.
Not today.
Not when she looked this free.
Mina shook her head again, laughing like she already knew what was coming. “I don’t like alcohol,” she said simply.
Jun shrugged. “Soda!”
Mina’s smile became a little smaller. “Still. I don’t want.”
Crystal, to her credit, immediately softened. “Okay okay. No alcohol. No pressure.”
Mina’s friends were still playful though. Airi nudged Mina gently. “One sip, Mina. For fun.”
Mina’s eyes flicked away, awkward.
Aleem felt something rise in him.
Not anger.
Not possessiveness.
Something colder and steadier.
A line.
He set his cup down with a soft click.
“No,” he said.
The table went quiet.
Not a heavy silence.
A surprised one.
Aleem looked at Jun, then at Airi, then back at Mina.
His tone stayed even. His face stayed calm.
“She said she doesn’t want,” he continued. “So no.”
Airi blinked, then laughed awkwardly. “Ah… okay. Sorry.”
Jun lifted both hands. “Okay, okay. No penalty.”
Mina’s eyes widened slightly.
Aleem realized only afterward how firm he’d sounded.
How it might have come off.
He turned to Mina, voice softer. “It’s fine. We can play without penalties.”
Mina stared at him for a second.
Then her shoulders loosened.
A small breath escaped her, like relief.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
And in that single word, Aleem felt something settle inside him.
Not triumph.
Not pride.
Just… rightness.
Crystal coughed into her hand, eyes sparkling. “Aleem has entered protective mode.”
Aleem shot her a look. “Crystal.”
Isabelle’s smile was gentle, approving but not teasing. She didn’t make it bigger than it needed to be.
Ivan leaned back, gaze assessing for half a second.
Then, calmly: “Good boundary.”
Crystal turned on him. “Are you siding with him?”
Ivan shrugged. “It was logical.”
Crystal looked personally offended. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”
Ivan stared. “That was not romantic.”
Mina laughed.
The sound was warm.
Unforced.
And Aleem realized he’d been holding his breath again.
—
The games continued without penalties.
They replaced sips with silly gestures: finger hearts, dramatic bowing, speaking in formal Korean for one round. Mina’s friends were delighted. ABIX, naturally, became feral competitors.
Crystal lost the most.
Which meant Crystal performed the most.
Isabelle laughed so hard she nearly choked on her water.
Even Ivan, after losing one round, reluctantly did a small finger heart with minimal enthusiasm.
Crystal screamed like she’d witnessed a miracle.
Mina’s eyes crinkled as she watched them.
Aleem watched Mina watching them.
He wasn’t a fan in that moment.
He was just… a man sitting at a table, quietly enjoying the way someone smiled when she forgot to guard herself.
At some point, the talk shifted—naturally, as conversations did when people began to feel comfortable.
Jun asked Aleem, “So you are… engineer?”
Aleem nodded. “Yeah. I work in tech.”
Airi leaned in. “And your friends?”
Crystal answered immediately, because Crystal always did. “We’re all different. He’s the serious one. Ivan is the brain. Isabelle is the heart. And I’m the personality.”
Isabelle blinked. “Crystal…”
“I’m not wrong.”
Mina smiled. “ABIX?”
Isabelle nodded. “It’s our group name.”
Mina repeated it softly. “A-B-I-X.”
Her pronunciation was careful, like she wanted to get it right.
Aleem felt something stupidly tender about that.
Jun looked at Aleem. “You single?”
Crystal made a noise of immediate outrage. “Wow. Straight to violence.”
Isabelle’s cheeks flushed faintly. “Jun…”
Ivan’s expression remained unreadable.
Aleem’s throat tightened.
He wasn’t embarrassed by being single.
Not usually.
But saying it out loud in front of Mina felt different.
Like it turned a private fact into an opening.
Aleem nodded anyway. “Yeah.”
Mina’s gaze flicked to him.
Just a quick glance.
But Aleem caught it.
Jun hummed, as if considering. “ABIX all attached?”
Crystal raised her hand like she was in class. “Yes. We are all emotionally secured by partners.”
Ivan said calmly, “That is not why we are emotionally secured.”
Crystal gasped. “Are you calling me unstable?”
Ivan blinked. “You called yourself that.”
Isabelle laughed softly. Mina laughed too.
Aleem felt his shoulders loosen.
The conversation flowed.
Mina asked about Singapore.
Aleem answered.
She asked about his work.
He talked about systems, design, the logic of building things that didn’t break.
Mina listened with real attention, chin resting lightly on her hand.
It wasn’t the polite attention of someone used to interviews.
It was the attention of someone who genuinely cared what he was saying.
And that…
That frightened him.
Because it made him want to keep talking.
It made him want to be seen.
Not as the dependable leader.
Not as the NAVEX guy who always knew where to go.
Not as the single friend among attached friends.
Just… Aleem.
At some point, Isabelle asked Mina gently, “Do you travel a lot?”
Mina nodded. “Now… yes. Before, I was always busy. But now… I want to do normal things.”
Crystal’s voice softened instinctively. “Like escape rooms?”
Mina smiled. “Yes. Like escape rooms.”
She paused, then added quietly, “Like eating without thinking who is watching.”
Aleem’s fingers tightened around his chopsticks.
He didn’t look at her immediately.
He didn’t want his face to reveal too much.
But when he finally did, Mina was already looking at him.
Her eyes were calm.
Open.
As if she trusted him to understand without making it heavy.
Aleem nodded once.
“Then,” he said, voice low and steady, “we’ll keep it normal.”
Mina’s lips curved.
A small smile.
Not bright.
Not dramatic.
But enough to make Aleem’s chest flutter like he’d been struck softly.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Crystal immediately ruined the mood by clapping her hands. “Alright! Next game!”
Isabelle groaned playfully. “Crystal…”
Crystal pointed at Aleem. “Aleem, you’re up. If you lose, you have to—”
She paused, grinning devilishly. “—say something sweet in Korean.”
Aleem stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because I want to see you suffer,” Crystal said happily.
Ivan added, deadpan, “Statistically, he will lose.”
Aleem glared. “Why are you all against me?”
Isabelle’s voice was gentle, teasing. “Because you’re the strongest. It’s balance.”
Mina’s laugh slipped out again.
Aleem felt himself relax into it.
He played.
He lost.
Because Mina’s friends were fast and Crystal was diabolical.
And when the table erupted in cheers, Aleem felt his face heat.
Crystal leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Sweet Korean. Now.”
Aleem exhaled slowly.
He glanced at Mina.
Her expression was curious, amused.
Not demanding.
Just… waiting.
Aleem’s brain searched for something safe.
Something that wouldn’t cross a line.
Something that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat.
In careful Korean, he said, “오늘… 즐거워요.”
Today… is fun.
Crystal groaned dramatically. “That’s not sweet, that’s lame.”
Isabelle laughed. “It’s sweet enough.”
Mina’s eyes softened.
She repeated in Korean, gently correcting his pronunciation with a tiny smile. “즐거워요.”
Aleem nodded, absorbing it.
Then, without thinking, he added—still in Korean, still careful—
“당신 덕분에.”
Because of you.
The table went quiet again.
Not the surprised quiet this time.
A different kind.
A soft one.
Crystal’s mouth opened.
Isabelle’s eyes widened.
Ivan looked away like he suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
Mina blinked.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her spoon.
And for a second, Aleem thought he’d gone too far.
Then Mina smiled.
Not big.
Not dramatic.
Just a quiet, fluttering smile that looked like it belonged to a girl who hadn’t expected someone to say something like that to her—simply, without asking for anything back.
“Thank you,” she said in English.
Aleem nodded once.
He didn’t smile too hard.
He didn’t let himself.
But inside, something warm spread through him anyway.
Because in that moment, he wasn’t lost.
He wasn’t leading.
He wasn’t even trying to be brave.
He was just…
honest.
And Mina, sitting across from him in a warm Jeonju restaurant, looked at him like honesty was something she could trust.
Outside, winter kept moving.
Inside, the day stayed normal—carefully built, lovingly held.
And Aleem realized something else, quietly, with a clarity that scared him:
He could do this.
He could keep it normal.
Not as a fan.
Not as a story.
But as a man.
For her.
For himself.
For whatever this was becoming.