Tʜᴇᴀ's Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ : Aᴄᴇ Eᴠᴀɴ

[One]

Ace and I've been dating for about a year now, and recently he has started acting weird. I don't know what's bothering him, or if he's stressed. He won't tell. Each time I ask, he pushes me away. It's getting fucking annoying now. But I'm also worried.

Ace had been diagnosed with depression and anxiety, he used to self-harm, not anymore though. But the way he's deteriorating day by day, I'm scared he'll go back to his old days.

I've always known I'm a mommy-dom, caregiver, so when the results came, I wasn't shocked. Ace turned out to be a neutral, he even refused to show me his report. I didn't press. I am okay even if he isn't going to be my baby, maybe we can have someone else at some point in life.

Now to think of it, he's started acting weird ever since we got the classification results last month.

I really need to see that report. I wonder if something's wrong with it. I need to find out before I lose my boyfriend to lack of communication.

☃︎•••~~~•••☃︎

Ace is out with his friends when I decide to sneak into his study room and start on my mission.

I scour through the drawers of his table, cabinets, shelves, and finally my eyes land on the envelope sitting on the top shelf of his book shelf. I drag a chair to the front and get on it, fetching the envelope and prying it open.

My heart pounds in my chest and for some reaosn my hands shake as I pull out the piece of paper, taking a deep breath before unfolding it.

I gasp and the paper falls out of my hands when I hear keys jingling as in the door being pushed open.

Fuck.

I jump off the chair and hurry to get it back to its place when it accidentally hits against the shelf and some stuff clatters from the upper shelf.

Shit. Fuck!

"Babe? I'm home!"

"Be there in a min, baby!" I yell back and rush to put the stuff back up on the shelves when suddenly my hand feels something rubbery.

Looking down at the object in my hand, my eyes widen like saucers.

Is it what I think it is? The fuck-

Then I grab the report paper off the floor, though now I clearly know what's written on it. I still do check it, and my doubt's proven right.

On the paper, in bold, the words are written with ink.

Ace Evan is classified as a Little

☃•••~~~•••︎☃︎

"Hey, baby."

"Hey. What were you doing up so long?" Ace asks, leaving his keys on the holder by the door and slipping off his shoes.

"Nothing much. I wanted to ask you something." I grip the found object in my hands, clasping it behind so he doesn't see it. Not yet.

"What? Is everything alright?" He looks concerned, and fidgety?

I take a step closer to him, and he looks up through his curly lashes. I've always loved this sight. I should've known by his height but Neutrals could be shorter too, so I never paid much attention to it. I wish I did earlier so my boy didn't have to suffer alone for so long.

"What happened to your classification report? Can I see it?"

His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, lashes fluttering rapidly—a clear sign of his nervousness and I smirk.