Just a little something that popped into my head while rewatching The Cure yesterday.
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If there was one thing in the world that Peter Bishop hated the most. It was walking into the bathroom in the morning to find his toothbrush wet and used. The first time he had walked into the bathroom and have found his toothbrush used by his father, he had walked out of the hotel at 1AM in the morning just to get a couple new ones at the drugstore down the road.
The arrangements had been easy. White for Walter. For the better half of their time living together, the older Bishop had actually remembered this one simple thing. White for Walter. However, now staring down at the wet toothbrush in his hand, Peter could just shake his head disbelievingly. How hard could it be to remember one single thing. White for Walter.
"Walter!" he called out frustrated as he dumped the toothbrush back into its usual holding place at the back of the sing, "What did we say about the toothbrushs! White for Walter..."
"Purple for Peter," came the immediate reply from the hallway and a head appeared around the corner, "sorry, I couldn't find a spare one. I figured you wouldn't mind."
Peter couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of him. Hair a tangled mess, one of his shirts loosely draped over her shoulders, her black bra clearly visible as her fingers fidgeted with one of the shirt buttons.
"Dunham, Dunham."
He shook his head slightly as he pulled her into his arms, his lips immediately descending on hers in a tender kiss.
"You owe me a new toothbrush."
"I think that can be rectified," Olivia replied in the most serious tone she muster, before her lips curled into a wicked, loopsided grin, "How about orange for Olivia?"