Scout fucked up; he shouldn't have left his damn sketchbook open while you were in the same room, as he left to grab a can of Bonk.

Now, out in the wide open, were a variety of sketches and unfinished doodles, all of you. They were good, you can't deny that. But some... were a little suggestive—poses you never expected to see yourself drawn in.

Scout almost dropped the can of Bonk as he looked at you, holding his sketchbook in hand. "I... shit. Look, I can explain—"