4:Settling

The three of us walked. The Styx was still a while off and it was getting darker.
The sun was well below its horizon by now and the stars were beginning to appear. Streetlights glowed faintly above our heads as we walked past the music straight. Warm lights emanated from the exotic smelling cafes as mixes of jazz, blues and folk rock sounded down the street. It was my favorite place to be, and if we didn't have Alistor with us I'd have stayed and listened for an hour or so before going home. I noticed him dragging his feet a little, looking into the bars and cocking his head to the music he wanted to hear better. He actually stopped momentarily when we passed the Bluejuice Cafe. My favorite. Some scruffy indie guy was playing and his voice was lovely but Finch urged us to keep walking. Obviously he didn't feel like waiting around tonight.
"Do you like music Alistor?" I asked watching the dim blue and orange lights of the music straight come to an end. He and I were instep with each other. Finch was walking quicker and was a shadow on the path.
"I do. One of the best parts of life if you ask me. It's beautiful." he replied although it sounded like he was talking to himself.
"It is... It keeps me sane out here." I laughed and he smiled. "Bit of a nice escape to just sit down here and listen you know?" He nodded and murmured approval before asking how much longer. I told him we still had two blocks till we reached the building. Away from the lights, sheltered only by the morbidly dull glass ghosts that hovered in place above us, the ghetto so called the Styx was definitely eerie. It seemed that every building was whitewashed, and the odd one that wasn't white was a dark charcoal abyss that stared at you as you walked past. The road and paths were littered with rubbish and papers. No surprise of its name. This place looked like a graveyard. A graveyard for a city, the buildings pale and long dead. Covered in grime and dirt... It wasn't nice at all really. I side glanced at Alistor to see his reaction of the place but I couldn't read his expression. I spied a tuft of white hair at the nape of his neck which extended to the left side of his face -the part I couldn't see, and I wondered about him again. He walked differently to both of us, yet different to  everyone else too. It was kind of a graceful slouch. It suited him.
I noticed Finch turn a corner and moments later Alistor and I were right behind him. I could tell the boy beside me was growing slightly anxious.
"Nearly there." I breathed. He looked at me, and looked away and we continued following Finch down the alley. One more turn and we'd reach our destination, but we still had a few moments left of walking to do. Alistor seemed uneasy. Our footsteps were painfully loud against the silence and a pair of pigeons flew in front of us with a rattle of papers. The boy stopped dead in his tracks, unbreathing.
"Alistor? Are you okay?" I asked a little concerned. Perhaps he was... scared? I watched him as his breath returned and he blinked, rubbed his forehead and started walking again.
"I'm... fine. It's just that I'm tired. Long day you know?"
 I murmured a reply and we turned to corner, finding ourselves back on the street, looking directly at the abandoned building that was our "home". The same grime lined its walls and graffiti littered the bottom half, but there were three stories to it and the very top part of the building seemed relatively clean.
"This is the building we saw in the middle of the street when walking down music straight." He looked perplexed. "Why did we go to so much trouble moving through alleyways?"
"'Cause we don't need another troupe of homeless destroying this place. Trust me. We don't want no drug dogs down this house." Finch said, moving the wooden boards from in front of the door revealing a silver padlock. The two holes where doorhandles had been were chained together. A sly idea in my opinion. I threw Finch the key and he unlocked it and threw it back. Alistor seemed fascinated by our hidden makeshift lock. We ushered him inside and he coughed at the dust- something we were long gone used to. A little amount of light from the streetlights filtered in from the grubby windows but besides that it was almost pitch black.
"Do we have lights?"
I pulled a lighter out of my pocket and lit it, providing a little light while Finch grabbed our two  torches out of his bag and switched them both on, handing me one. I put the lighter back in my pocket and we found our way to the corner, near the double set of windows. Here there was an old couch, a wrecked recliner and a few cushions on the floor. In the other corner there was a heap of blankets and a few bottles of something I guessed to be alcohol.
"This is where we sleep." muttered Finch to Alistor. "It's not much compared to what you're used to, but it's better than nothing. The couch is Else's-" I cut him off.
"Oh! Sorry," I frowned. I still hadn't introduced myself. "I'm Elise. You can call me Else or Eli" I watched him smile as I spoke and it made me smile. I couldn't see him too well but there was enough light to make out expressions. He held out a hand to me, the other folded behind his back.
"Nice to meet you, Elise." Alistor said, shaking my hand. His voice was very clean, with a slight husk to it. Finch resumed speaking.
"This is Else's. The recliner is mine, hands off; and the blankets over there aren't yours to bunk on either. You can have these cushions if you want." He said pointing to the holey ripped heap of cushions against the wall. It made me sad. Alistor was our guest. I looked to the couch. It was big enough for both of us...
"Finch," I whined. "Alistor can sleep on one half of the couch if he wants can't he? There's room."
"No." His voice was cold and harsh. I didn't ask again. I watched Alistor indirectly. He was simply studying Finch.
"This is fine" He smiled, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Better than I thought actually." His smile was so infectious... I sat on the couch and patted the spot next to me. He accepted the invitation, putting his bag beside the couch and sat with his back on the opposite arm of the chair, feet up on the cushion.
"Get your torches off. We're savin' the batt'ries you lot, don't got much money remember?" Finch was obviously in a bad mood. I turned the torch off and glared in his direction, glad he couldn't see me because he'd probably snap again. "I'm sleepin'. You lot better soon too..."