[ he certainly doesn't think she's just human - there's still too much he doesn't know, and he's under no impression that he'll ever learn the full truth. It's not his business. But the moments where that wise outsider facade slips a little go a long way to humanize her. For better or worse, this hotel is his community now, and Giselle's imperfections are reassuringly neighborly. He manages to hold his ground, somehow, while helping her up. If she's particularly perceptive, she might notice the ground underneath his feet wrinkling just slightly. (Though he keeps the zippers themselves concealed beneath his shoes as best he can - hiding his Stand power is second nature after all these years.)
her comment just earns a slight shake of his head, though his expression stays impassive. He figured she didn't buy that... ]
Consider it a compliment. I don't share the details in good company.
[ not like it matters when he's dead, but telling everyone he's a mobster would surely bring some unsavory assumptions with it, and he'd rather not deal with explaining. Especially when most of those assumptions are true. ]
no subject
her comment just earns a slight shake of his head, though his expression stays impassive. He figured she didn't buy that... ]
Consider it a compliment. I don't share the details in good company.
[ not like it matters when he's dead, but telling everyone he's a mobster would surely bring some unsavory assumptions with it, and he'd rather not deal with explaining. Especially when most of those assumptions are true. ]
Being human is a compliment, too.