Yeah, You don't say.

Hours pass, with the sun having just fallen below the horizon. Jacob has received plenty of strange looks as he sits by the door, looking like a lost puppy. He could barely hear the whispered comments of strangers, wondering if he was trying to beg for his girlfriend's forgiveness. The cold wind would occasionally cut through his meager, and torn shirt. He huddled tightly into a ball, and shut out the world, when he heard the door he was sitting next to unlock. Looking up, he saw Millione gesture for him to enter, with a look of pity and exasperation on her face.

Following her, Jacob enters the warm apartment, and feels his arms and legs tingle, as blood begins to flow back to his extremities. He follows Millione to the couch, and gently sits down. He looks to Millione, hope clear in his expression. She leans forward, her elbows on her knees, her forehead resting on her hands. She holds that pose for a moment, then leans back, her eyes fixed on Jacob. "Okay, I talked to Tirsa, and obviously, she confirmed your story, and begged me to let you stay here while she's in the hospital. So, against my better judgement, I will. However, you will not be a lazy bum while you live here, is that clear?"

Jacob nods his head, and his voice is filled with relief, "I understand, Millione. I'm going to be the one who does the housekeeping such as cleaning, laundry, repairs, and cooking. I'm hap-"

Millione cuts him off quickly, and speaks with an iron will, "Let me set you straight right now. I'm the one that does the cooking. Not Tirsa, and certainly not you. Clear? If I find you messing around in my fridge, cooking with my ingredients, you are a dead man."

Jacob can only gulp, and nod quickly. "Yes, I understand. The kitchen is your realm, and yours alone. I wont even open the fridge, I promise you that." Seeing Millione nod, Jacob takes a deep breath, the sudden tension flying out of him. "Next subject, I guess. I'm going to assume that I'll sleep on the couch, here, unless you have any other places in mind?"

Millione shakes her head no, so Jacob just moves on, "You should have heard from Tirsa, but until I'm get an actual ID, I'm going to have a hard time making money, so you'll have to just accept what ever I can give. I promise that every bit of money I earn will go straight to you or Tirsa. On that subject, please let me know if there's someone that needs a quick repair job, or help moving. I'll ask around myself, but it would help both of us if you do as well. Do you have anything you want to say to me?"

Millione shakes her head no, and goes to double check that the front door is locked. Then she passes back into the living room, and moves to a hallway opposite the front entrance. When she enters her bedroom, the door closes with a bang, and the click of a lock echoes through the apartment. Jacob just sighs, and leans back in the couch, after kicking off his shoes and socks. He closes his eyes, and lays there, dressed in his tattered rags. The wait by the door had filled him with a nervous energy, and now that he knows that he has a place to sleep, his body relaxes. Exhaustion flows over him, and he falls asleep in a dark living room, with a woman that barely tolerate his presence.