A Flight of Stairs
Atton gets pwned. Atton/Exile pairing. Oneshot.
Rated PG13 – Standard-ocity-like-ness.
Disclaimer: Woa dude.
A Flight of Stairs
Telos was firm and solemn that day. The clouds determinedly blocked the sky and cast the ground beneath in shadow, but no storm threatened to break, nor was the air particularly chilly, though the windows at the Citadel Station had frosted over in the season's equivalent to winter. Air-speeders roared pleasantly in the background, and their owners' eyes were watering as fresh air blasted their faces. Children pressed their faces to the windows and licked the frost off. The occasionally citizen found it in their heart to buy a gift, for the sake of warming someone's heart during such a cold time.
Atton stood on a sloping ramp leading up to someplace or another, absently breathing against the glass, and the heat from his breath melted the frost only to replace it with fog. He wrote his name in the smug, and a heart beneath that, and had started out writing another name before he became bored and erased it with his sleeve. He breathed against the glass again and pressed his fingers to the cool, flat surface, before he playfully wrote, "redrum." It was just his twisted sense of humor, and he quickly erased that as well. By the fourth time, Relina had burst out of a nearby door way and was striding angrily down the ramp towards him; the air around her rippled with her frustration.
Atton leaned back some as if to admire his work, and she brushed against him. She glowered and, much to his surprise, firmly shoved him.
"Get out of my way, you nerf-herder."
He stumbled and his foot caught on the slope of the ramp. Down he went, in an unusual display of lack of grace, and he rolled down the ramp, slammed against the wall, and stumbled to his feet. He lost his footing again, and fell down the stairs, hollering and swearing as he came in contact with the sharp edges of the stairs.
Relina cried out and chased after him, stumbling over the stairs but managing to stay on her feet. Atton reached the bottom and slammed against some lockers with a metallic 'wham.' A woman nearby screamed, gathering her child, and ran.
Atton groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his reeling head. His forehead smarted where he had smacked it, and his entire body ached from the escapade. Relina tore down the stairs and ran to him, skidding to a stop and kneeling at his side.
"I'm sorry!" she gasped, looking him over frantically for injuries.
He pushed her away and she obediently sank back on her haunches, watching him as he got woozily to his feet. He shook his head and mussed his hair and gently felt his head for tender spots or bruises. Amazingly, he was mostly unscathed.
"I'll be alright," he said. "Watch yourself next time, will you? I didn't do anything wrong this time." He brushed off some dirt from his jacket.
She shook her head, her eyes growing wide. "I'm sorry," she repeated.
"Just watch it," he told her. He paused. "Now, what was the matter in there? You came out looking like you could have eaten a rancor."
She shrugged, flushing a little. "I just… had some trouble with Czerka."
"You aren't very smart, are you?" he snorted.
Relina laughed. "No." She paused. "But I'm not going to help that slimy woman. Have you looked at her? I mean… she's awful!"
"Big jugs," Atton said without interest, unconsciously pulling out a cigarra and lighting it before taking a drag. He exhaled and waited a moment before he added, "But yeah. Slimy."
Relina slapped the cigarra from his hand and stamped it out. He stared for a moment and his hand twitched with irritation.
"What was that for?" he said, and his voice was torn between harsh anger and an irksome whine.
"That's disgusting," she told him. "That stuff isn't good for you, and you won't do it in my company."
He wanted to strike her. He glared at her for a moment before he decided it wasn't worth the struggle. "Fine," he grumbled, and leaned against the wall. "Are you finished speaking with Czerka?"
"Not yet," she said, smiling weakly.
He grinned back. "Well go get 'em."
She shifted uneasily. "But they're giving me some trouble, Atton. They won't listen to me."
He laughed then, heartily and loudly, and a few people stopped to stare. He shook his head, trembling with his laughter, before he regained control. He sighed, pushing his hair from his face, and grinned at her. "Just push 'em down the stairs, lady, and they'll listen."
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Author's Notes: Boredom. Not that great. No real plot, no real fluff. Eeh. I was going to have him be all, 'emogaspchokebleed.' But I realized that was lame. So I just kind of… yeah. Eh. Still on Telos. Mumbling in Ithorian.