[And so begins a sass off. Molly plants a hand on his own (mostly bare due to his choice in low cut shirts, considerably scarred) chest like he's absolutely affronted. It's all showmanship, of course. He could just laugh and walk away from this if he wants to, but now the kid's proven to be a brat and he wants to see how far he can escalate this.

Because, let's be honest, Molly is only an adult physically.] That's absolutely fair. You're a smart kid. You clearly know what you're about. I just couldn't help that you've been listening in on that conversation I was having.

[In a sense. This isn't even about the job anymore. Molly's just being a fuckass.]