Morningside Cuesta enter, pursued by a memory

Something about the immediate denial hurt Persia in a way he'd never been hurt before. Even though he'd been expecting her to turn down any more help. "Ouch," he said, hurt and concern warring in a way that made his voice come out oddly neutral.

Persia sucked in a breath and let it out slow, doing his best to exorcise all his concerns and confusion. This was none of his business, after all. But also, like... When had that ever stopped him before?

"No offense, Widow," he said, still uneasy despite his best efforts, "but I think I'm gonna come along away. So. Y'know. You can keep looking over your shoulder for me or we can do the less crazy thing and walk like we've already introduced ourselves. But I don't think you can stop me, y'know?"

His mother had indeed raised an asshole, but Persia at least tried to be polite while he told her yeah, no, fuck that, in a tone that turned conciliatory without his permission toward the end.