Trees preserve me. It was a good thing Pree had gotten plenty of practice keeping a steady hand during a bombing, else he might have smeared cyan nail polish all over Dieter's fingers. "Scamp isn't the word I'd use. Brat, maybe." The kind who misbehaved not because he couldn't help it but because he could.
It was enough to conjure all manner of thoughts Pree had been trying his best to will out of his mind. So much for all that effort.
"I'd know," Pree affirmed, "because you'd tell me. Possibly after you got what you wanted. Guilt just weighs you down, honeybee. And in this place? Where we're all lonely and bored? No one needs any more of that." He stoppered the bottle of nail polish and plucked idly at the cord holding Dieter's headphones together. "Besides, it's more fun if everyone's on the same page."