R5 Imagines

Ross Imagine

"So Ross," the interviewer asks, "how’s the girlfriend doing?" You are watching the interview from backstage as usual.

"She's good," he replies, his smile widening at the mention of you, "she’s actually backstage right now." Luckily this interviewer didn’t make you come on stage with him. That has happened a few times and it’s just not an enjoyable experience for you.

"She is the cutest little thing," the interviewer adds, "you two are so adorable together." You giggle at the way the interviewer is gushing over you and Ross, but you cringe at the ‘cutest little thing’ part.

Being 4’11 and in a relationship with a guy who is 6’2 can be a struggle because your height is always brought up in every conversation. You used to not be as insecure about it but the more people say “Awe look how cute she is” and “She is just so tiny compared to him” the more self-aware you become.

Ross laughs a little and adds on, “Yeah she is, isn’t she? I like to call her my little shortcake because she is so cute and little.” The crowd gushes but you sigh an angry sigh. 

He knows that you hate that nickname, and the fact that he brought it up in front of the entire country on TV made you pretty upset. You cross your arms and lean against the wall as he finishes the interview. It’s gonna be a long ride home.

"You ready to go?" he asks whenever he is finished and you say yes monotonously, walking ahead of him to the car. You saw the confusion on his face before you started walking but you didn’t want to cause a scene. At least not in there.

You both make it to the car and you get in, slamming the door behind you. He gets in soon after and before even turning the car on he asks what’s wrong.

"Shortcake? Really?" you spit out almost instantly. 

"What?" he says, shrugging, "it’s what I call you." You roll your eyes and sit back in your seat.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," you reply with crossed arms. If looks could kill, Ross would have been gone a few minutes ago. 

"What?" he says with furrowed brows, "I have never heard you say that.”

"Do you not notice the cringe and glare I do every time you call me that?" you say, not believing he can be this ridiculous.

"No," he retorts, "I’m a guy, we are stupid and oblivious, remember?" 

"That doesn’t matter," you say finally looking at him, "I have told you a million times!" You get angrier with each word. "I have told you when we were with your family, I have told you on the tour bus, I have told you on dates, I have constantly told you that I hate the comments about my height!" You get teary eyed because you hate fighting with him, no matter whose fault it is.

"Okay, I’m sorry," he says matching your tone, "but why do you get so upset about it?" 

"I just do!" you answer back quickly and loudly. 

"But why!" he replies, being the stubborn person he is. 

"Because I’m insecure about my height and having the whole world call me out on it can be very discouraging and I thought that you would understand and lay off the height jokes but I guess not," you say letting out a large breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

"Oh," is all he could say. His shoulders slumped and he put his hands on the wheel. "I'm-," he starts but you stop him.

"Just take me home, please," you ask before he could say anything else. He shuts his mouth- it was probably the best choice- and starts the car. 

You ride in the car in uncomfortable silence, him keeping his eyes on the road and you looking out the window. Suddenly you realize that he missed your street.

"Uhm, Ross," you say, breaking the silence, "you just passed my street." 

He just smirks and replies, “I know.”

You look at him confused, “What the heck, I told you I wanted to go home.”

"Look, there is somewhere I want to take you," he says calmly, "I guess it is sort of an apology for the whole interview thing." 

You sit back, deciding to give him a chance. This stubborn boy wasn’t going to turn around anyway so there is no point in wasting your breath. He makes one final turn and then parks on the side of the road. You both get out, him taking your hand and leading you to a gazebo.

When you get a closer look you see that it is all lit up with candles and there is a picnic blanket in the middle of the gazebo. On top of it is a picnic basket, overall the sight is beautiful.

"What is all this?" you ask in awe.

"My apology," he replies, "I was going to save it for tomorrow night on our 1 year anniversary but I told Riker to go ahead and get everything ready tonight, you deserve it." 

You squeeze his hand tighter while turning to completely face him. “How do you manage to be so perfect?” you ask, almost forgetting the previous argument.

"I think you are the perfect one, my darling," he replies lifting your chin with his index finger, "I really am sorry about the nicknames, I promise from now on they will stop." He pauses for a moment before adding, "Do you forgive me?"

You giggle, “Just shut up and kiss me, Shor,” you say and he pulls you in for a kiss. And as soon as your lips meet his, this whole argument just disappeared from your mind. In this moment, everything is perfect and you wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

Yeah, you are so glad he didn’t take you home.