Own nothing.
Ghost.
That word makes you think that the shade or person would be pale, creepy and withdrawn.
She's anything but. Well, she's pale, but Fantina of Hearthome is loud, flamboyant, exotic, and all-too alive, unlike her type preference.
On the outside, anyways. Who is he to be able to tell the mind of a Ghost-type user? He specializes in Water-types and wrestling, not psychics.
He doesn't quite know how unsure she is of herself until she confesses over wine at a dinner date. How the beautiful and confident, the powerful and graceful Fantina is nothing but a mask, and she doesn't know who the real her is. Not anymore.
He tells her that she can be whatever she wants, and it's not a mask, but her real shining personality.
She shakes her head and blinks away those tears.
He still attends her contests and cheers her on, and maybe that mask of confidence will be more than a mask.
Subconsciously, his hands touch his own mask, and he feels like a hypocrite, urging her to be herself when he himself hides behind another identity.
But she's such a kind one, not mentioning his lacking courage.
One day, that ring in his pocket will be on her finger. And he won't hide behind his mask.
~He just crosses his thick scarred fingers and hopes she'll be patient, patient enough to wait for him to grow up just a bit more~