St. Louis 1927

It was a few hours after midnight, you weren't really sure what time it was and Ben certainly didn't look like he was: he was comfortably sitting on the couch, his face looked tired as hell as you sat on his lap. Who can blame him though? He had returned from his work an hour ago. Spending time on a stage playing for thousands of cats spunded fun but was also pretty tiring. The two of you were sitting together in your apartment as you sat on the couch, in the dark; The only source of light was the small warm lamp on the coffee table in the living room and the soft light the tv emanated as you two were watching a movie, a romantic one,or was it? By now you had reached the end of the film and the protagonist died, sacrificing for his beloved. You just sat on you husband's lap as you snuggled your face in his chest, peeking at the screen from time to time, too sad and anxious to know how the movie was proceeding. Ben was just sitting with you while trying not to fall asleep as he was staring from the screen to you at times. He didn't seem as taken by the death of the protagonist as you were, but he certainly noticed your anxiety as he lazily smirked.