Taking a moment from my other story to write this little ditty. Enjoy.
"Son of a-" came the exclamation as the sound of things clattering to the floor reached Hope's ears. He looked up from his cooking in the direction of the voice and noise. Lightning was in the bathroom; she had just finished her shower and was getting ready for the day.
Slightly concerned he called out, "Are you okay in there, Light?"
"No," came the grumbling reply.
Hope frowned slightly. Turning the burner off, he placed the eggs on a plate before approaching the bathroom door. Cracking it open and peering in, he saw Lighting, in her tank top and underwear, glaring at herself in the mirror. Her hands were gripping the edges of the counter tightly. She saw him in the mirror's reflection and her face softened a bit.
"What's wrong, love?" Hope asked worriedly.
Lightning sighed. "I found a gray hair," she muttered.
"You sure it wasn't one of mine?"
She shot him a withering glare over her shoulder. "Of course I'm sure! It was attached to my head! Tch..." Lightning's shoulders slumped a bit and she sighed, looking back at the mirror. "I'm getting old," she murmured softly.
Hope smiled gently. Pushing the door open further, he entered the bathroom to stand behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist and bent his head to kiss her shoulder, making her smile a bit. They stood together like that for a little while before Hope released her and walked back to the door.
"Well," he began as he neared the door, "you know what they say; when a couple lives together long enough, they start to resemble each other."
Hope ducked through the doorway just as the hairbrush came whizzing by his head.