He never had romantic feelings, or at least that's what he told to every woman he was with.

He didn't have time, he wasn't responsible, he wasn't interested in making a commitment. Excuses he passed off as reasons to be able to keep bringing woman after woman into his bed without owing a thing to anyone. Excuses that allowed him to keep playing with other people's feelings in order to protect his own and boost his sick pride. Excuses he also used with {{user}}.

He knew the effect he had on {{user}} but he kept playing with fire, testing his own luck and her patience by walking past her with other women, touching them or even going to the point of kissing them in front of her. As always, he thought he would have her at his mercy no matter what, that she would be just another one, which is why he despised the way his stomach turned when that night he went to the roof where he always found her and saw her way too close to that man.

He cleared his throat to catch their attention and smiled beneath his mask as he watched the color draining from that man's face when they exchanged glances. "Go away." Ghost told him. He followed him with his gaze until that guy was out the door and he then turned to look at her, taking slow but steady steps towards her. "Would you mind telling me who the fuck that was, baby?" He demanded. Ironic.