Rebirth Of The Forgotten Heiress - Chapter 63: Chapter 63

Quinlyn was out like a light within five minutes after the car slowed down.
Instead of heading straight home like he said he would, Yasin slowly turned the steering wheel, steering the car off their usual route and onto a quiet, deserted road.
Quinlyn came to her senses with the salty tang of sea breeze filling her nostrils.
In her mind, the Narrator chimed in, [Fate Change Progress: 40%]
Quinlyn raised an eyebrow and thought, 'The Narrator's being unusually stingy with words today. It can't even be bothered by basic plot commentary. Slacking off, are you?'
The Narrator responded with a rare "Hmm."
Quinlyn asked, "Did you just respond to me?" But there was no answer. She frowned in thought for a few seconds, then asked in her mind, "Are you pitying me?"
It was just a random thought. She didn't really expect the Narrator to answer. She thought, 'After all, it's just a cold, unfeeling machine.'
But to her surprise, the Narrator responded in her mind with nothing but an ellipsis.
Quinlyn paused for a moment, then said in her mind, "Honestly, it's fine. My life this time is already so much better than the last.
"But if you feel sorry for me, how about sending me some compensation? Not much, 5% progress. What do you think?"
The Narrator fell into dead silence as if trying to say, "Don't even dream about it. I will never develop emotions a machine shouldn't have."
Quinlyn clicked her tongue. She thought, 'It is getting harder to fool.' She stretched lazily, dropped the subject, and turned to gaze out the car window.
Outside the window, the churning waves crashed against the shore. Though the sound of the surf was loud, it somehow resembled a lullaby, bringing Quinlyn an unexpected sense of inner peace.
Quinlyn tore her gaze away from the window and turned to the driver's seat. She found that Yasin had dozed off at some point and was still asleep.
Looking down at his jacket draped over her, Quinlyn quietly turned and gently covered him with it instead. The movement brought their faces dangerously close, close enough that she could count his eyelashes.
Quinlyn thought, 'Oh God, please don't wake up now. That would be pretty awkward.'
Then, Yasin jolted awake at her slight movement.
Quinlyn couldn't help but think, 'Wow, am I psychic or something?'
The two of them locked eyes.
Yasin's eyes were still bleary and slightly bloodshot from sleep. This was a far cry from their usual sharpness. Even his pale lips relaxed into an uncharacteristically soft expression.
Quinlyn spoke up, "Your eyes."
Yasin asked, "What?"
"You've got some sleep in the corner," Quinlyn said, grabbing a tissue and handing it to him.
Yasin thought, 'I should have known better. Expecting her to say something romantic? That's on me, not her.'
After handing him the tissue, Quinlyn started to slide back into her seat, already planning a stroll by the beach. But then her hand was caught in his large one. She instinctively frowned and glanced over.
Yasin asked, "Running away?" His sleep-heavy, nasal voice mingled with its usual rasp.
Quinlyn tried to pull her hand back. She said, "I haven't seen the ocean in ages. I want to take a look."
Yasin said, "Hold on, I'll go with you." Although he said so, he didn't let go of her hand, and he didn't budge an inch.
His hand was warm, with a slight roughness that made Quinlyn's heart skip a beat. Quinlyn's eyelashes fluttered slightly. She stared at his hand for a long moment, then clicked her tongue.
She said, "I know you're not exactly young, and you've probably never even held a girl's hand before. I get that you're a bit flustered, but come on, no need to be so nervous. Your palms are sweating."
Yasin paused for a moment. "Yeah. I am so nervous that my palms are sweating. Why am I this nervous?" he drawled, each word deliberately slow, as if carefully weighing every syllable before letting it slip out.
Quinlyn abruptly straightened up and yanked her hand back with all her might. She shot him a sidelong glance and said, "Alright, enough with the innocent act after getting your way."
Once outside, Quinlyn wiped the hand Yasin had just held with her other hand. But then she noticed that the hand was a bit damp with sweat, too. She thought, 'Alright, guess I was outplayed this round.'
Quinlyn headed toward the shoreline.
Perhaps due to the gloomy skies and strong winds, the beach was nearly deserted.
The briny, damp sea wind rushed into Quinlyn's mouth the moment she opened it. To her ears, it felt as if the whole world dissolved into nothing but the roaring gale and the thunderous crash of waves against the rocks.
Yasin moved swiftly with his broad-shouldered frame. He caught up to Quinlyn and stood beside her, instantly blocking out most of the sea breeze.
With rough, unceremonious motions, he pulled his ill-fitting jacket over her head, yet his touch was unexpectedly gentle.
After slipping on the jacket, Quinlyn tilted her head up to look at Yasin. She found his hair left in a wild, windswept mess by the sea breeze.
Quinlyn called softly, "Yasin."
Yasin replied, "What?"
Quinlyn said, "Tell me the real reason you've been getting close to me." After she finished speaking, she kept her head tilted back, eyes locked on him, waiting for his answer.
Yasin nodded and asked, "What's in it for me?"
His words popped the heavy atmosphere like a pricked balloon, gone in an instant.
"What if I say nothing?" Quinlyn shot back.
Yasin paused to think, then flashed a lazy smile. "Well, guess you'll have to decide if I'm telling the truth," he teased.
Quinlyn fumed inside, 'Blackmail. This is blatant blackmail.'
Every ounce of Quinlyn's gloom and pent-up frustration surged to the surface. All those negative emotions fusing into one furious thought: she wanted nothing more than to strangle Yasin right then and there.
She gritted her teeth and said, "What brilliant advice. Fine. Let's just keep our secrets and stay hell away from each other."
Without another glance at the ocean or its waves, she spun on her heel and stormed off, her footsteps pounding with rage.
Yasin didn't rush after her in a panic. After all, there were no other cars except his within three miles.
He glanced at the sea, then at Quinlyn ahead, who was already venting her anger by kicking at the shells beneath her feet. Only then did a smirk tug at his lips as he strode after her.
Quinlyn wasn't stupid. Seeing Yasin take his sweet time catching up and glancing around, she thought to herself, 'Yeah, I know exactly what you're up to.'
Quinlyn stormed back to the car ahead of Yasin. Instead of getting into the passenger seat, she defiantly took the driver's seat.
Yasin's composure finally cracked as he hurried after her, only to have his fingers graze the car door as it slammed shut.
Quinlyn had locked the doors from the inside, and with the engine still running, there was no way Yasin could open them.
Quinlyn looked at Yasin through the car window and asked, "Gonna talk now?"
Realizing that this was her way of retaliating for his earlier blackmail, Yasin chuckled. He said, "Little girl, you know driving without a license will get you hauled in by the cops, right?"
Quinlyn shrugged and said, "No worries, I'll just say my folks told me to drive."
Yasin said, "Well, it's not impossible, but when did you even learn to drive? You've only been an adult for, what, a few days?"
Quinlyn thought to herself, 'Same old tricks.' She tilted her chin up with a defiant smirk. "Like you have any say in this?" she shot back. With that, she slammed her foot on the gas.
The car was a modified off-road vehicle. With a deafening roar, it lurched forward at breakneck speed, leaving Yasin choking on its exhaust.
Yasin was no longer worried about his departure or stay, nor did he have time to pursue the questions he had just wanted to ask. Instead, he was concerned that Quinlyn might plunge headfirst into the sea.