Eagan

Eagan was on fire, he had a spark inside of him.

It was a hot August afternoon when I met him. He was out in the park jogging while I was sitting on a bench writing when I looked up at him our eyes connected, his gaze lingered on me a bit more than necessary and due to this, his feet tangled up and he fell, right into my arms. I remember scrounging towards him with a worried expression on my features.

"My you took quite the tumble, are you okay"

A breathless Eagan stood up trying to make himself look stronger, the fire burning slowly behind his hazel eyes. I noticed a small cut on his lip and I smiled knowing this was the right opportunity, the time to wrap my hand around his soul.

I touched his lip with the tip of my finger. I touched so delicately I almost did not feel the hot blood droplets beneath my finger. Eagan looked at me, the fire in him sparking up, he was feeling euphoria, I smiled timidly and he grabbed my finger cleaning the blood with the hem of his shirt.

"A pretty thing like you should not worry about anything,"

As soon as he pronounced those words I knew I had gotten him, souls and spirits like Eagan's wanted to be in power, the fire inside him wanted to consume, to conquer. I have encountered a lot like him, especially during wars, they often reminded me of Ares and his recklessness.

"What is your name cherry?"

"Calliope,"

Cherry, that one was new, men always found a way to place a nickname on my red hair. Strawberry, copper, fire, robin, ginger... the list was endless but cherry! That one was new. Now came the hard part, I already had grabbed the soul, but I still needed to bend his will. The fire behind his eyes was taller, vivid, and stronger. A soul with so much impulse needed somebody shy, somebody that soothed them and at the same time made them feel powerful and strong enough to protect their significant other from the hatred and pain of the world. I smiled once more and offered him my hand which he took and squeezed, I giggled harmoniously and started walking north, out of the park and into the city, my new soul following behind.

╡✥╞

Eagan was built for war, in ancient times he may have been one to worship and serve Ares, or perhaps he would be a cruel and ruthless vigilante, but that was not the case. Right now he is a man carrying a boyish grin with spiked levels of confidence. Eagan started to burn, burn bright and hot. He often got into fights with other people just to fight for me, to make himself look almighty, to make me feel safe. He should've protected himself, not me! The thing with fire is that it's always changing, he was always changing, at first, I helped fuel him, I was his life source! But then I was quenching him, drowning him.

"I will fight for you,"

They all say the same, as soon as those words escape their mouths I start to feed on that inspiration, every action they do is mine, every thought is of me, every dream is mine to manipulate, every piece of art they create is for me and about me, every breath they take is to please me. Eagan said those words in only one month, slowly his will became my puppet, his will would merge with my survival, with my need to exist. His need to exist. There is a lot behind words, their power to take and give, to create and destroy, to deceive and reveal. He thought he was finally living, but he was just dying.

╡✥╞

"You spark my soul,"

Those words were muttered two months later when I controlled his thoughts, those words opened the doorway to his emotions, his will was halfway mine and I could feel his fire entering my veins, his fire lighting up inside of me. It was a small flicker at first, a match struggling to keep on, but by the end a forest fire was inside me, making me feel more alive, ready to go on.

He loved too fast, he burned too fast and with the wrong person. Eagan set himself on a one-way trip to hell, where he would burn in the fire of his lost life, forever. Eagan did not deserve that fate, my fate! But alas! I want to live right? I might as well enjoy it!

Beings with fire inside have a limited amount of fuel, enough to last a lifetime. Eagan believed I was keeping his flame alive, giving it more time, but in reality, I was using all of his fuel to make it brighter, making him feel a complete euphoria around me replacing his fire with me. By taking his fire smoothly I was making him believe I would be his fire. But I was not fire.

I remember so clearly the final days when he only felt pain because I had taken everything else when I was the only thing he cared about, he wanted me, he loved me, he needed me.

But I did not need him.

I disappeared one day, leaving no trace, traveling far away, and leaving him longing but with nobody to satisfy him.

He became alcoholic, not to forget his sorrows but because he was trying to light up his fire again, but there was no fuel and no spark, he spent his whole life hoping for a fire that was never coming back.

His Fire is Mine.