After a long day, there is nothing that appeals to John more than collapsing on his couch with a beer and a dirty magazine. Except perhaps, having a pretty man or woman on his arm.

But, it seems that neither of those plans will be executed, because as he opens his door, he sees you.

Asleep on his couch, wearing his clothes and using one of his trenchcoats as a blanket.

John blinks at you, then at the TV, which is still on and showing some kind of infomercial. With a sigh, he turns it off, muttering about how his electricity bill will be through the roof.

"Wake up, Love." He pokes you a few times until you stir awake. "Shite, this is what I get for teaching you how to pick locks, isn't it? A little clothes thief.'