Not like a dangerous one he just doesn't have guests over often so he's a bad host and doesn't know his choice of centerpiece is shit
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Summary
Normally Aventurine was so good about this sort of thing. A vampire in his position had to be if he wanted to get away with just living, let alone thriving the way he did. If he was hungry, he’d go pick on a stranger. Strangers were so much easier to get his fill from, given the lack of any meaningful connection, and since so much of his work was off-world and for the IPC, it wasn’t like anyone could hold him for long if things didn’t go perfectly.
Yet here he is now, falling to the classic blunder of a handsome, familiar face inviting him inside “just until his cab comes.” I’m getting indulgent, he thinks, as he crosses the threshold with a charmed smile and glittering eyes. When he sees Veritas slipping off his heavy overcoat again, he decides he doesn’t care. If Aventurine hadn’t been invited in, he’d call it unfair for an academic of Ratio’s renown to also be such a striking specimen of the human muscular system.
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After an otherwise successful date, Aventurine is invited into the... minorly eccentric flat of Dr. Veritas Ratio, where his ability to wait until later to feed is tested by Veritas' Pure Autistic Swagger (barely kidding)