Giovanni knew his daughter was safe here. Well as safe as she could be. She was howling and wanting daddy to be okay. He was wanting himself to be okay. He just could not die. He had a daughter to care for. Yet his eyes were so heavy. He barely felt the heavy quilt yet visually curled into it. He was starting to return to a pale color compared to his normally tan looking hue. He wasn't dead and his breathing started return to normal. He just slept for a few. Then the smell of cookies caught his nose. Teasing him until he woke up out of his exhausted sleep. The bruises on his arms fully formed by now. He slowly gets the energy to move. He stood wih the quilt wrapped securely around his shoulders. He walked into the kitchen after checking on Mimi. Kissing her lightly on the head. "Sleep well my little angel." He says softly. Happy she was resting peacefully.<br/><br/>He stood in the entrance to the kitchen. "Thank you. For allowing us to come inside. If you had said no to me...I would have begged you at least took in Mimi." He says. His Italian accent understandable and just sounded sexy even in normal talking. He looked at her. "Your other half won't mind my being here will he?" He asks. "Can I feel the babies movement? My girlfriend, god rest her soul, let me when she was carrying Mimi...I still miss her." He sighs a bit. Looking away. "Sorry I know that is a very weird question for a man to ask someone. I just remember the joy that came with becoming a father. Mimi is my life. She is my miracle...she is all I have in a world in which fame and fortune rule over all."<br/><br/>He left and unbundled his daughter. Picking her up and carries the sleeping baby girl into the kitchen. Rocking Mimi out of habit. "Are you happy to be a mother? You seem happy." He says softly. Mimi's thumb in her mouth. He held her against him. His body warmer and still mostly wrapped in the quilt. "Can I help you out somehow?" He asks softly. He could see she celebrated christmas but...that holiday was for the children. It had stolen too much from him. He didn't believe in the spirit of christmas anymore. He wasn't a bah humbug just...nowhere as full of christmas cheer as he once had been. He took his daughter and lay her back on the ground in front of the fire. Covering her up in both quilts. "Sleep well baby girl."<br/><br/>He walks into the kitchen. The nasty bruises on his arms lead all the way beneath the shirt. Beanth the end of the pants line. He paid them no mind. He was used to the bruises. This time she hadn't cared where they were. That was too bad. He was still upset she tried to kill his precious baby girl. Looking at Rose warily. "My name is Giovanni Martonesi. I apologize for not introducing myself before. My daughters name is Mimi Martonesi." He stayed at the entrance to the kitchen. So that he was out of the way.