Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

Quinlyn felt that Yasin had a natural knack for the jungle, but she couldn't find the right words to say it.
He moved like he owned the place. He never got lost, always had a plan, knew where to set up camp and how to find food, and even had a feel for the climate.
He led Quinlyn all the way to the shore, and then stared out at the churning water, figuring out how to scrounge up something to eat.
Quinlyn balanced banana leaves on her head to keep the rain off, watching as Yasin strolled through the downpour as if it were just a light drizzle.
The rain was pouring, and the sea churned like a pack of wild animals. Quinlyn's gut twisted, scared a huge wave might crash in and yank him under.
After watching for a minute, Yasin made up his mind. He walked back, serious as ever, and asked, "Want some seafood?"
Quinlyn glanced at the roiling water, throat tight. "Isn't it more likely the seafood will eat us?"
Yasin shot her a sideways look. "Scaredy-cat. We'll come back once the storm dies down and the tide's low."
Quinlyn mumbled, "Bet you'll miss your chance."
"What?"
Quinlyn replied, "This rain won't stop anytime soon."
'Not until later,' she thought. 'When Zachary and Yalena get closer. Then the rain stops, a big rainbow pops out, and they hug and kiss in the sun.'
Yasin might've brushed it off if anyone else said it, but coming from Quinlyn, he half-believed it. The other half of him clung to his last, faint hope in the Fletcher Group.
He looked up at the endless ocean not far off, where a ship could barely be seen tossing in the storm. The question he'd been holding in slipped out, "Fletcher Group didn't even check the weather before this outdoor event?"
Quinlyn shrugged. The Fletchers weren't useless, sure. But in a romance novel, the only thing that mattered was the main couple's connection. Everything else could wait.
She looked at Yasin, whose face was screaming "I'm unhappy we can't get seafood," and mumbled, "Maybe this is their idea of fun?
"Picture this: in the misty rain, he's standing close enough to feel her breath. He falls into a pit for her, manages to climb out, and then they both tumble back in.
"It's a cold, lonely night, with freezing rain pouring down, but they're warm next to each other. While he's limping and she's injured, they open up about their feelings. Sounds romantic, doesn't it?"
The "he" in the story was Zachary.
Yasin froze. After a moment, he looked at her with a complicated expression and asked, "People are into that stuff these days?"
Quinlyn tugged at a blade of grass. "You don't get it. Kids these days hate things that come too easily. When it comes to love, the more obstacles they face, the more convinced they are it's meant to be."
Yasin let out a faint snort. He didn't argue, not even trying to get it. If he loved someone, he'd take care of her—no messing around, no looking for trouble. And if trouble did pop up, he'd just fix it and make it all easy.
Quinlyn glanced at him, and one look at his face told her exactly what he was thinking. She stood on her tiptoes to pat his shoulder. "Buddy, you see this downpour? This is romance!"
Yasin dipped his head, his charming eyes fixing on her lips, which were pale from the rain. He tapped her forehead with a finger and asked, "You really think this is romantic right now?"
He was way warmer than she was. The heat of his fingertip lingered on her skin, gone in a flash but impossible to ignore.
Instinctively, she stepped back. "Romantic? Please. Mess around out here and we'll end up fish food. Let's head back."
Her words tumbled out so quickly that they almost got jumbled. As soon as she finished, she spun around and took off, as if she wished her feet could fly.
On the way back, Quinlyn marched ahead like she was on a mission. Even Yasin had to hurry to keep up. "Why the rush?" he asked.
"I... I'm hot!"
"You're shivering," Yasin pointed out, sounding concerned.
"Yeah, so I walked fast to warm myself up, and now I'm burning up."
'What a flimsy excuse,' Yasin thought. He replayed what'd just happened in his head, going over every little detail. Then, as if something clicked, he smirked and called out, "Hey, squirt."
The second Quinlyn heard his voice lift with that little smirk, she knew what he was gonna say, though they hadn't known each other long.
She sighed and stopped, turning to face him, her big eyes steady. "Don't talk to me."
Under Yasin's confused gaze, she stayed calm and continued, "That banana I ate just hit. Now I need to take care of a personal problem. I'm, like, really, in a hurry!"
She emphasized each pause, making it sound urgent. Yasin bought it.
The two kept hurrying along. Thanks to his sharp tracking skills, Yasin found the house before the other group of eight. There wasn't any food inside, but the power and running water worked.
To keep up her act, Quinlyn wore a "I'm in a rush, leave me alone" face the whole time. At the door, she sped up, trying to dart out of Yasin's sight as fast as possible.
But just as the door swung open, she heard a soft laugh, and then it faded. 'Ugh, dammit!' she cursed silently.
When Quinlyn figured it was time to show up, she sauntered out, dragging her feet. By the door, her stuff was piled up, with a bunch of green bananas stealing the spotlight. Bananas did grow on this island, but these ones still had green peels.
Yasin's voice floated up from downstairs. "Grab something to ripen them. At this temp, they'll be good in two days."
'Can't he just shut up already?' Quinlyn thought, speechless. After that, she clammed up for the rest of the day—might as well have been a mime.
She stared out the window at the rain, wondering, 'When will the other eight find this place? Should I pull some trick to keep them away for good?'
Days of lousy sleep had drained her. After eating, she dragged herself to her room and crashed hard. When she woke up later, everything was quiet. The rain, it seemed, had let up.
Suddenly, there was a sound of a door opening outside, jarringly loud in the night.
Quinlyn's heart raced. 'They're here. They found this place in the dark?' Not sure if Yasin in the next room heard it, she grabbed a stool and inched toward the door.
The noise stopped abruptly. Panic spiked, and she stared hard at the door—she hadn't locked it, assuming Yasin would keep her safe. 'Where the hell did that stupid sense of security come from?' she wondered.