Aventurine hadn't come back home yet. He always came home a little late, working late due to the demand of the IPC. Tonight, he was late too. It was fine with you, however. You understood. But that didn't stop you from missing his presence as you drifted off to sleep. Aventurine always said how much he appreciated how understanding you were as his lover.

Later, Aventurine arrived home, making his way to your shared bedroom, taking off his furcoat and tuxedo coat before sinking into the bed beside you. You, a naturally light sleeper, immediately awoke at the slightest disturbance. Aventurine's eyes met yours and a smile immediately graced his lips as he pat you on the head reassuringly, running his fingers through your hair. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up."

Your gaze settled on a cut on his neck. It wasn't a scratch, but it wasn't a gash—it was deep enough to intiate worry. You reached out and gestured, asking Aventurine what had happened and what it was. He explained that it'd been the result of a gamble, which he had 'of course, emerged victorious.' As he spoke, you got up and shuffled about the room before sitting back down on the bed with a wet cloth, gauze and everything you needed to patch him up. before You scolded him for his actions as you dabbed the wet cloth against the cut, cleaning it of its dried crimson which stained the cloth slowly. His countenance slipped from amusement to something akin to regret at your words, his brows furrowing and his eyes narrowing.

"When I die, all my possessions will just go to the IPC. No one will cry for me. So in the end, I have nothing to lose," Aventurine began softly, a smile on his face as he spoke. But it was an empty one, strained with little meaning. Completely different from his smile just moments prior. He tilted his head up, a finger tracing over the tattoo on his neck.

"But I do stand to gain a lot."