It's Time To Love You [GL]

"I finally found you." The words echoed in Reane's mind as memories of the party flooded back to her—everything that happened before she lost consciousness. Her eyes widened in shock when she realized who had spoken those words to her. In a panic, she sprang up from the tub just as she heard a sound of someone entering her room.

"Reane?"

Nic's voice reached her ears, and she stepped out of the bathroom, which surprised her best friend since Reane wasn't wearing anything.

"Oh my god! Cover yourself!" Nic shouted, closing her eyes and covering it with her hands. Her cheeks turned pink. Reane knitted her brows and cast a weary glance.

"What's the drama? It's not like you haven't seen it all anyway," she said proudly and then laughed, seeing how her best friend reacted. 

The strawberry-blonde woman has a great figure and smooth, fair skin, so being naked in front of Nic doesn't bother her unless it involves someone else.

"Whatever! That doesn't mean that it pleases me to see a naked person. You should have locked the door if you were still preparing even after millennia when I left!" 

Nic responds while her eyes are still closed, trying to cover them with her hands. Then Reane looks at the time. It's just quarter to noon; she looks back at the embarrassed woman and retorts in disbelief. 

"It's not even an hour; stop exaggerating! Well, whatever. I want my privacy back now, so you better go." Then Reane tried to push Nic and lead her out of the room when she remembered that she had something to ask. 

"Look, I have something to ask you," Reane said in a steady and serious voice. She held Nic's hand so her best friend could look at her; even though Nic was still a little embarrassed to see the naked strawberry blonde girl, she opened her eyes, and Reane proceeded to ask. 

"Have you seen a woman with the brown hair last night before I lost consciousness?"

"Huh? I don't remember seeing someone with you," Nic answered quickly, a slight blush on her face. She tried to look in a different spot to avoid seeing the naked strawberry blonde, but then she noticed Reane's eyes were puffier than usual. 

"Wait, were you crying?" she asked, cupping Reane's tiny yet striking face and leaning closer. Reane was stunned when they got closer, but she just shrugged it off, then removed the hands from her face and replied. 

"No, it's just the soap bubbles that got in my eyes, that's all," she said, trying to sound casual as she forced a smile. She didn't want her best friend to think something was wrong, but Nic was shocked and feeling a little angry at her.

"No way! Did you fall asleep in the bath again? I knew this would happen. You could have drowned, for Christ's sake!" 

"But I didn't! You're overreacting, Nic. Anyway, are you sure you didn't see a woman? I'm pretty sure that I saw someone." Reane couldn't finish her words as her phone started ringing for a call from his mother, but she didn't answer. Nic saw it and tensed when she remembered why she went to Reane's room. 

"Oh yeah, your mother is here. Sorry, I forgot to tell you." The short-haired woman laughed nervously and smiled, but her smile faded when she saw that Reane was furious. 

"What?! You should have said that first?" The strawberry blonde immediately picked up her clothes and started to wear them.

"Well, I didn't realize that you're not ready yet, so my mind got diverted, and then you kept asking me questions," Nic defended.

"Argh, so it's my fault now?!" Reane argued while preparing as quickly as she could. 

"Of course not! I didn't say that!" The blue-haired girl countered, shaking her head.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Your mother is waiting in the car—she refuses to come inside. I think it's urgent."

Nic told Reane while slowly retreating toward the door. She can imagine that Reane will kill her if she doesn't get out of the room soon. 

"Gosh! It's worse." Reane's face showed distress. She had no idea why her mother had arrived, which frightened her. She picked up her phone to look at the messages.

"I'll be quick now if I were you," Nic said and hurriedly exited the door before Reane could curse her.

The strawberry-blonde girl sighed deeply and frowned, looking at her phone. She had forgotten to check it firsthand when she woke up—not something a typical millennial would do—and now she was seeing a lot of unopened messages and calls from her parents. 

"Yeah, I should expect the worst." She mumbled under her breath, sitting at the edge of the bed, lost in thought as her gaze drifted blankly to the floor. She knew that actions like these from her parents never meant anything good.

-------

Reane stepped out with Nic to see Mrs. Castillejo, but the sight of Mr. Marco standing by the black Bentley Bentayga made her pause. This older man, with his neatly trimmed white mustache and sharp eyeglasses, was more than just a driver. He was her mother's trusted aide—part chauffeur, part personal butler, and an ever-present shadow in their household. He stood by the passenger door with his usual composed demeanor, but his lips curled into a smile when he turned to her.

Something about it felt wrong. It wasn't just a polite greeting—it was a warning, a silent message hidden beneath practiced courtesy. A chill ran down Reane's spine when Mr. Marco casually said. 

"Madam Castillejo has been waiting for you." 

Reane gulped hard as she walked toward the car. The older man opened the door, and she saw a distinguished middle-aged woman in the car. Their eyes locked; although the woman inside the vehicle wasn't angry, it still made her uncomfortable. Reane was about to greet her, but the woman cut in before she could speak.

"Your father is really upset and wants to talk to you. We need to go now." 

Reane is scared of her mother. After all, Sylvia Castellijo wasn't just anyone—she was once part of the illustrious Verchiel family, a name synonymous with power, refinement, and quiet dominance in high society. Though she had left that world behind when she married into the Castellijo empire, her presence alone is still the living symbol of the Verchiel, built on generations of influence.

She never raised her voice. She never needed to. A single glance from her was enough to silence a room. Her words, always calm and measured, carried more weight than a storm.

Despite her mother's demeanor, Reane felt the pressure suffocating her. It wasn't punishment that made her stomach twist—it was the fear of disappointing a woman who never had to ask for perfection and expected nothing less. 

Reane swallowed hard.

"Hello, Mom."

It was the only thing she could say.