Artificial Horizon - A César Fernando Basa x Reader story

XIII - Homing

A flight towards or away from a radio station while using direction finding equipment.

* * *

I suddenly get a good grasp of the life of my dream version. And it seems it isn't any good at all. César didn't need to tell me those; because it is like some old memories that seem to be unlocked at this moment then. As if some part of an old life that blends too well with that of my own; and one that I'll definitely not be able to forget, the same way I do with the happenings in my dream (except for the dates) upon the waking world. But then, knowing that part of this dream version of me's history is almost like intruding to someone's life that I shall not judge at all.

However, I can't stop the onslaught of information. Leading me to learn that this dream version of me had been orphaned at a young age, grew up living with my paternal aunt who've been like a doting mother, and yet, dream me left in pursuit of being a military nurse. The reason for choosing such the choice of career, however, seems to be some impulse action as one of the only possible futures of a woman. And somehow, along that way, I've met César, but even that respective moment and the length of courtship remains covered by a screen of smoke.

A part of me is at ease and happy that I don't need to be bitter of the moments that this dream me shares with Elian's look-a-like; but I'll be lying if I'll not admit that I am wishing and hopeful that I know. Knowing will definitely make me understand what is this thing between them truly is, wherein I am like some third-party having to deal with all of this that are supposedly theirs alone.

At the same time, I am quite guilty that I am still thinking that César and Elian had been the same. No matter how they share the same face, the same physique, and perhaps a parallel history, too, they are two completely different persons. Not just because one exists in my dreams alone and the other is from the real world; but because César loves this dream version of me with no objections at all. If there will be one greater sin then, it will be me wishing that this dream is reality instead than the other way around.

After all, the lines between reality and dream blurs too well that it draws me in. And as I've told myself the last time, that I hoped this dreamscape will not continue and I'll not be returning here is because of the subsequent fear of not only wanting to remain asleep and exist here. But the fact that the more time I spend with César here, the more I understand why I am in love with him in this plane. He is easy to like, and very much more then to love especially when it is requited.

To be honest, I am thinking much more of this than to take into account the fact that we are now watching some movie entitled Babalik Ka Rin. Of course, I do not know the cast and not even the director. Despite it being a Filipino movie, and set in the neutral black-and-white tone normal around this time—it is supposed to be eye-catchy given the pack of people gathered. However, I am not blaming the cinematography or effects or the editing for it not to be appealing to me; but the fact is that the story flow is like the ones I am aware of back in reality. It feels like the same repetitive romantic cliché had been going on as early as this time.

What I have been thinking of is much more intriguing. Very much some foolishness crossing my mind as I turn to César, seated right next to me. I am hoping that he will not ask me for some opinion about the movie later on because I don't know how I'll be writing a reflection paper for something less interesting.

He has an elbow prompted against the armrest, leaning then his cheek against his knuckles; and his other arm on the rest as his fingers silently drumming the leather surface. And I smile to myself, fully knowing that I am not the only one getting bored.

I then overlap my hand against his, and I feel him flinch a little at the touch but he slowly relaxes as he looks at me. In the rather dim light, it is almost like a crime to think of the vibes to be intimate being in a public place in general. Or perhaps, an additional factor to it had been the fact that the light highlights deep shadows on his face that visibly heightened the sharp and chiseled features. Thankfully, it is dark enough inside the theater that my blush hadn't been evident and I can still stare back at him.