This is a nice short story about Atton and the Exile. The setting: A rainy day. Atton is standing outside of the Ebon Hawk, but the exile will soon join him... probably kind of dark, but at the same time kind of fluffy/cheesy

It is written as just dialogue:

Atton

Exile

Rain.

I can feel it. Running down my forehead, my nose, my throat. Soaking my hair. Dripping on my shoulders. Rain is supposed to be cleansing, isn't it? Well, I don't feel clean. I feel like I'm drowning.

My, my. Why so gloomy, Atton?

Great. Now I can even hear her in my head. I'm definitely going insane. Okay…21…22. I have a seven and a three. So if I turn over the negative four over there…

I'm still here, Atton. I'm standing behind you.

You followed me?

Whatever place I go, I just can't escape you, can I? I'll think that finally I'm ahead, just one step, and I'll turn round any corner and you're already there. It's like I'm running and running to get away from you, running so hard…and my lungs feel like exploding, I want to get away so badly, and then I just can't…

I sense hate. But why, why do you hate me so much, Atton?

I can't hate you, that's the thing. I…I want you, I know I shouldn't, and I hate myself for it, but, I'm aching, longing for you, but I can't… I shouldn't…

Atton…

I have no right. I played my cards long ago, and I lost.

Whenever I see you, I want to reach out for you, be close to you. But my hands, look at them, look, they're dirty. They're covered with mud, and blood, and hatred …all the darkness in me.

I tried to tuck it away. Turn over a new leaf. But turning over does no good. Ugly on the outside, yeah, but even more so on the inside.

There is all that darkness in me, I thought I'd managed to leave it behind, to tuck it away. But it's there, roaring and roaming about and looking for a place to burst out. When I'm near you, I'm only feeding it. The last day, when you looked at me, it felt like a dagger being thrust through my spine. When you walked past me, the sweet smell of your flesh almost made me gag.

Oh, there is nothing sweet to me, Atton. What you were smelling was probably the scent of betrayal and deception. I did wrong, too. I gave in to the darkness in me, I let it grow until it became so powerful, I almost weren't there. Just darkness. But you can fight it!

And you. You're so good. That light inside of you…it's shining so bright, but me, over there in the darkness, I'm blinded.

You're like…like an angel.

Hah! Me, an angel? If I ever was one, they clipped my wings long ago. Or maybe I cut them myself…

No. You're an angel. But I, I'm a monster.

You're no monster, Atton.

There is good in you. You can't see it, but I can. I can see it. Maybe it's not so strong, but it's shining through nonetheless. You're no monster, Atton. You're an angel. There, I can see a wing, it's coming out from your back…

Oh, stop that…

No, really. Maybe you don't see it now, but it's there. Like the force, you don't see that either, but you can feel it flowing through you and everything around you and connecting you to it, don't you? Don't you feel it? There, close your eyes, now, can you feel it now?

And there's your wing, and mine, and maybe they're not strong and small and beaten, but together, if we combine them, we can fly! We'll soar high up in the sky, higher and higher, where there is sunlight. Do you feel it? Do you feel it?

…Yes…yes, I do…

"Hey, Mira. What are you doing?"

"Shhh, Mical. I'm watching Atton and the Exile. Look at them, standing there with their eyes closed and grinning like crazy!"

"But don't they see it's raining? They'll get a cold out there. I'll go and get them."

"Mical, don't! Can't you see? They're happy!"

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