d7 . erik moretti

When he turned twenty he joined the Salazar family as a henchman, a loyal name to Valentino’s father that did what he was told whatever the job may be. It became apparent very quickly that he was a man of talent, where his charm was more useful for other tasks. He was thankful, a change of rank and slowly he was climbing within the Salazar household. He knew that they were a family who prided themselves on noble bloodlines and he would always be a man that sat on the edge, but it did not bother him, he just needed a job and money to win the heart of the girl at the bakery in town. Her name was Cecilia.

They had told him that getting married was an inconvenience and that it would only get in the way of the job he had been given. But Erik had always been a man of charm and words that had been able to sweep even Valentino in the right direction. Forty years he had been married to his wonderful wife, Cecilia was one of the kindest souls he had ever met. He often wondered what had allowed him the luck and chance to fall in love with a woman so remarkable.

At the gentle age of forty, she started losing her memory. First, it was her keys, then the day then soon she had forgotten his name. Forty years of history vanishing within a breathe as she forgot how to speak his name, the fear in her eyes as he’d come through the door of their house as though he was only an intruder. The accident happened three years in, she fell down the stairs after she had woken up beside him. Terrified she had run from the room, tripping over her own feet as she yelled in fear. It had broken a part of him he had never been able to repair. He wasn’t a fool, he didn’t bury the pain in alcohol, drugs, or death, he was just broken.

Erik had followed behind her, trying with everything he had to remain calm, speak gently and softly, reminding her of where she was, who she was with. It was never enough, not even when he sang the lyrics to the song that they had listened to the day they had been married. He had been too late and three days later she was in the hospital, the injury to her head had left her in a coma. He lost half of himself that day, the part of him that was a little brighter, a little braver, the good part of this world. He had whispered his final goodbye into her ear and watched as she had passed away.

The gentleness that she had bestowed upon him had been reserved for Jacinta Salazar. From the moment Valentino had assigned him to be her bodyguard he had been dutiful. It was one of the highest honours a man could have within that household, and Erik Moretti was relieved he no longer had to play the part of a dirty henchman. The role had left him filled with many scars, wounds that had lingered in his body, and his relationship with Cecilia. And the new position had fulfilled the hole in his life left behind by Cecilia after she had passed away.

He and Cecilia had never had children of their own, too fearful of what might become of them in his line of work. Sometimes the ache would be too much for his wife, it was the only time she had ever lashed out at him, feeling as though she was missing a part of her life that she had always dreamed of. It was the only time when Erik ever felt as though he had wronged her, as though he should have never courted her. But his desire to be with the woman he loved, who held his heart, always overcome that guilt.

He was a man of loyalty, tethered in three different ways. He was a man of strength and drive and wit and courage and it was why he was still alive, unmarked by the ill doings of other members within the Salzar household. Even as time aged him and his hair were peppered with grey, there was no denying the cheekiness behind his smile. Even as time dulled his eyes, and the ache of loss etched itself into his face he continued onwards, loyalty tying him to his job.

Cecilia would have loved Jacinta, Erik would tell himself. She was full of life, battling in a world that could break her so easily, a man such as Valentino for a father was not one any child deserved.

The first cracks appeared after she had been in his charge for a year. The boarding school was far away from her father’s touch, but not far enough away. He watched her grow and change, the days he spent near her allowed him to forget the pain in his heart for a moment. There was a wall between them, a role that Erik had to play, a part within her life that was outlined so well there was hardly any chance for him to break away from it. It was lonely at times, Jacinta knew him by little more than a name, a figure in her life assigned to watch her by her father. To her, he must have seemed like the enemy, another part of the evil that sat around to hold up Valentino’s thrown.

On her tenth birthday, he watched her sit alone her father didn't turn up. It was there that he climbed over that wall that separated them. It was that day that he moved beyond the role he had been assigned, breaking the rules that had been set for him. Valentino would kill him or mutilate him if he ever found it, but his heart hurt too much. Cecilia would have smiled, called him a selfish fool for waiting too long to step into her world. The cupcake he gave her felt like nothing, the icing a little smooshed, but he handed it to her all the same. He lit the candle and sang to her, clapping along, and singing it until she stopped crying and started laughing. He had no gift, but only a handmade card that he scribbled on, promising her that he would be there for the next one. He'd give her a gift next year.

By the second year of schooling, he had slipped into a new position, daring to attend her parent-teacher interviews when the seat remained empty. Her school recitals and plays were no longer lonely, but rather filled with a familiar face who cheered her on. A part of his heart was filled, and the nights where he cried for Cecilia he instead told her about Jacinta, speaking to her memory with a gentle fondness that made his heart feel light.

Soon he was attending all her events, the sports carnival where he treated the cut on her knee. Her first school dance where she snuck a drink in with Jezebel, thinking that he wouldn't see. Erik let her get away with it after seeing the way she laughed.

If you asked him if he could pinpoint the exact moment he stopped being her bodyguard, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

The cracks that had formed only grew larger and larger as time went by. His loyalty to the Salazar household dying with every year he spent looking out for Jacinta. By the time the 77th reaping came around he was playing a dangerous game, where only time would reveal the results of the choices he had made. There was no doubt that Valentino would have his head. But he believed that there was nothing the man could do to him that could hurt him more than Cecilia's death.

Erik was wrong.

Watching Jacinta fight for her life in the 77th Hunger games had almost broken him. Cracks turned to canyons, and by the time he had heard the news of Jezebel's disappearance, he was at breaking point. The fear alone that he might never see Jacinta again was the only thing that stopped him from leaving. That young woman was the daughter that he had never had, the one that he and Cecilia had dreamed of having for most of their time together. The one they had been too scared to bring into this world because they didn't want them to suffer.

For all his choices he had still ended up in that same situation. Suffering for a child that was not his, for the child he had raised in school. For the child that he had cared for, the times he had picked her up after she had fallen.

Then she won and Erik Moretti was finally free. Jacinta Salazar was banished from the house, her name scorned and burned from the tapestry. One night, after openly speaking against Valentino's desires he disappeared, fleeing before the wolves could get him. He no longer needed to fear the wrath of Valentino Salazar, and could instead stand behind Jacinta without fear.

All those years ago Valentino had made a mistake. He had never hired her a bodyguard, but rather, he had given her a dad.