There is no such thing as a mere man. The words catch his attention, drawing his focus to her in a way it hadn’t been until that very moment. He has grown unused to others disagreeing with him. After a certain age, it seemed to become almost an automatic thing. A wisdom gained of years rather than instinct. That she would tell him he does not know himself when he has spent years in this body and mind is a surprisingly intriguing thing.
Others might laugh at such determination, but instead he finds it curious. “Mmmm,” he rumbles softly as his hard gaze focuses more intensely upon her. A piercing stare that seems to see far more than it actually does. Or perhaps, as much as one would expect. “Is that so?”
The question is not a derisive one. Instead, it beckons at thought, enticing her to share more of her conclusions. He wishes to know what she thinks him to be if he is not a man and not a hurricane. Perhaps some would compare him to his namesake, but he knows better. Hurricanes are ferocious and fearsome, but ultimately they are fleeting. They howl with a destructive rage that sweeps across the land in a graceless arc, but that rage is short lived. He is more. Far more. He is enduring, lasting, and vastly more subtle.
But he could hardly expect her know these things of him. He does not know these things of her either, as is the way of strangers.
The silence stretches, and he is not tempted to fill it. Instead he admires the soft curves of her features, allowing himself to enjoy the faint curve of her blue-gold lips. She is lovely, and he is a man, after all. No matter how much she believes him to be so much more than ‘mere’. He would let her explain those thoughts to him. He has never been one for guessing.
In the meantime, he would simply be a man.
quiet now, you're gonna wake the beast
hide your soul out of his reach
Hurricane