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Apparently, Aventurine had issues with self-harm.
This was not something Screwllum would've expected to become aware of before their shared partner, much less directly and willingly from the man himself despite the two of them only having interacted a handful of times, and yet...that is almost exactly what happened.
He had politely invited Screwllum to his apartment to help him clean up after a relapse. He told him that this was the first such incident in almost a month, but was remarkably calm about the situation and the mindset he claimed to carry regarding it was actually very relieving to hear (that and the fact that the self-inflicted injuries in question were relatively minor).
In Aventurine's own words: "I've only stumbled back a few steps. I'm not about to let such a small blunder undo everything I've already done."
"I figured involving at least one other person would make it easier to keep myself in check, and so far I believe I've been proven right."
At first, Screwllum suspected that this was merely his usual confident facade, that there was some external factor compelling him to seek additional help that he wasn't willing to acknowledge. Given his profession, it wouldn't have been surprising; a gambler wouldn't be too keen on revealing vulnerability. Perhaps he'd worn the metaphorical mask for so long that even he himself could no longer tell where it ended and his true face began, if one existed at all (...that was a concept Screwllum understood on a far more personal level than he would've liked to admit).
However, the more he thought about it, the less certain he was that that was actually the case. He found every reason to believe Aventurine's motivation to give up this self-destructive behavior was indeed as strong as he claimed, that he really was handling this around as calmly as he seemed to be from the outside.
That was why he didn't think a more serious conversation about the issue was necessary. Any advice he could've given had already been taken to heart from other sources, so he would not waste the other's time doing more than what had been asked of him.
That being said, there remained at least one point of interest that he found worth addressing:
“It isn't my place to pry for answers,” Screwllum stated, gently dabbing a wet cloth against the cuts on Aventurine's forearm. “However, I am curious: why was I the one you informed of this and requested help from?”
“Simple, you're trustworthy. Even if I wasn't familiar with your glowing reputation, the mere fact that someone with a stick as far up their ass as Doctor Veritas Ratio trusts you is more than enough for me to do the same,” he explained in the same tone he usually spoke in, the jab at their shared partner being a playful and light-hearted one, as mean as it may have sounded.
“Clarification: I meant why ask myself instead of Veritas? You're much closer to him than you are to me, are you not?”
Aventurine chuckled dryly. “I'm guessing you've never seen him worried — and I mean really worried — if you're seriously asking me why I don't want to tell him.”
“I suppose I have not.” He wrang out the cloth before setting aside both it and the bowl of warm water he'd previously soaked it in. “Again, I don't intend to pressure you to say anything, but considering that he is also my partner—”
“His ego can be fragile at times,” Aventurine interrupted. “Though I'm certain you've gathered at least that much—”
...indeed he had.
“—to an extent, he thinks worrying makes him seem weak. He's seen me brush inches away from danger many times, and he always scolds me for being reckless even though I make it out unscathed…” he looks away with a contemplative smile. “…I think it's got something to do with his affinity for logic as well. He can look at me and know that I'm fine, but he can't seem to stop himself from imagining what could happen if luck decides to stop working in my favor. He probably doesn't think I can see him beating himself up over it, but I do.”
Screwllum didn't say anything in response to this at first, only listening quietly as he continued to treat Aventurine's wounds. He was considering the underlying implications of the explanation…it seemed somewhat unfair to do so (speculating upon someone else's thought processes), but this explanation more-or-less aligned with what he already knew about both of them and their opinions of each other.
The long and short of his current hypothesis regarding both perspectives was as follows:
Veritas must have felt his concern was illogical, unwarranted; two words he hated to use in reference to himself. Time and time again he had been shown that Aventurine had not and most likely would not receive any life-threatening injury as a result of his quote-on-quote “reckless” antics. Being a professional gambler of Aventurine’s skill required an almost unparalleled awareness of one's surroundings. He knew full well what risks to take and when to take them to avoid danger, but that didn't stop his significant other from worrying about his safety.
Aventurine, in turn, was less willing to let himself be the cause of that worry (his default method seeming to be lying by omission, as questionably healthy as that was).
This situation was somewhat different. One way it could've potentially been interpreted on Veritas' end was as evidence that Aventurine was willing to take a larger risk in order to recieve a smaller reward. Whether or not the thought processes behind him purposefully harming himself to satiate an addiction would actually bleed into his more general behavioral tendencies was irrelevant. What mattered (to Aventurine, at least) was that the worry it could cause Veritas would be far more intense than anything felt before and therefore harder to hide behind a facade, likely feeding into a vicious cycle of self-destructive thoughts.
Considering all of this made it understandable (from an emotional standpoint) why Aventurine was so hesitant to inform him, seeking Screwllum's assistance instead.
“You are under no obligation to confide in him if you do not wish to," Screwllum stated, tucking in the loose end of the bandage and double checking to make sure it was secure while not being too tight around his arm. "I'm merely suggesting that you consider it, given that the two of you quite clearly care about each other...he may not react to this in the way you expect him to."
“I'll think about it…” he responded, shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch, remaining quiet and calm as Screwllum picked up and put away the first aid supplies.
It wasn't until he had stood up and was nearing the hallway, about to return the kit and washcloth to the bathroom, that Aventurine broke the silence:
“He's the reason I'm trying to quit.”
It was a flat statement in and of itself, said with little to no noteworthy tonal shift in his voice, and yet it carried with it some of the purest evidence of how much Veritas must have meant to him. It was a silent, unknown act of love that seemed so out of character for someone as outgoing as Aventurine. Putting forth the effort of bettering himself without necessarily needing the acknowledgement of the person he was doing it for.
(Perhaps it wasn't the best way of going about it; Screwllum still wasn't convinced Veritas shouldn't be made aware of this, but it wasn't his place to decide how they navigated their relationship with each other. The most he could do was offer advice, but he wouldn't act against Aventurine's wishes if he decided to ignore that advice.)
It took a short while for Screwllum to decide how to respond to that; sorting through many different possible phrases of encouragement, considering and then dismissing dozens upon dozens of them...eventually he settled on something that seemed to better fit the man he was saying it to than anything else he could've said in the moment:
“I wish you luck.”