A line along which an aircraft is known to be at a particular time, usually by taking a Very High Omni-directional Range (VOR) bearing. Referred to in radials and whether "inbound" or "outbound" to a channeled station.

* * *

"We're not so eager to die than you think of us, (L/N)," Capt. Villamor's fleeting words to me echoes quite too loudly in my head. Some sort of confirmation out of him, out of one of the best pilots there is, had said those words to me. And for some reasons, it is definitely assuring than anything else.

Perhaps, it is more of an assurance than that of César or anyone else saying that we shall not be worried of them. I think, them saying Capt. Villamor's words then are better despite it being so direct to the point.

I sigh heavily and watch for a second Capt. Villamor leaving until his figure grows small in the distance and in the darkness of the camp. Afterwards, I turn back to look on at César, him laughing at what one of the mechanics had told him about.

As Capt. Villamor earlier said, it is indeed quite strange seeing César be hands-on as well with the dirty work of aircraft maintenance. That, instead of just simply flying, he seems to be enjoying the work of trinkets, too.

It didn't take long that one of the mechanics notice me watching them, that he then catches César's attention to inform that I am there. Though I remain in my position, they definitely think that César will then make the move to reach me. However, César just stop laughing for a moment and seems quite surprised to find me there before he simply raises a hand in a small wave and then looks away, returning to his previous work and conversing with the mechanics.

Hindi niya naman talaga ako dinismiss as he acknowledges my presence here. Pero talaga bang wala siyang plano na puntahan o kausapin man lang ako?

I breathe out heavily again and after debating about whether to let him be or not, I finally decide to be the one to reach him instead. In my reality, just to simply walk in the hangar this way, I'll definitely be in need of a reflector vest and an access pass; however, in here, it seems like I can just walk in and hope that I'll not be accused of anything that may gone wrong the next. After all, the heart and the rest that make planes flyable are here—from the smallest bits of screws and nuts to the very engine itself.

"For phase inspection din 'yan ulit, tenyente," one of the mechanics tell him. "Na-squawk 'yan no'ng huling gumamit na tumataas ang oil temperature kahit puno naman ang oil niyan. Kailangan pa namin i-check 'yong mga linya. Baka makita namin doon ang problema."

César only nods as he looks away from one of the planes in the hangar and then continues on doing what he is working on.

"Good evening, ma'am," another mechanic greets me, causing the others to also do so. I hint a few familiar faces from them, especially remembering two out of them that I've seen before our flight from Clark to Davao—that chief mechanic and ramp agent at that time.

I smile sheepishly, nod, and mumble back my own greeting to them. They are also surely aware of what is my relationship with César that realizing what may lead me here is the man in question completely out of place among the maintenance crew; they then slowly scurry away as if to offer us some privacy. I'll be honest to say that they did it in such a rather funny and awkward way that it is very visible that they want to be away from us, in any event that they'll be witnessing or hearing something completely out of the line from me and César.

However, the moment that it had just been us at this part of the hangar—with the mechanics busying themselves at the other end—I can't help fidgeting about what I shall do then. I am unsure of how to open a conversation now between us as the memory of how I raised my voice at him early this morning and how I walked out is all too fresh.

Definitely not only for me, but also for him. Looking back at it now, I know that we are at fault; however, my words had been too blunt and painful for him without even fully understanding that what mattered at that moment is finding him safe and sound. Alive.

César, right now, seems to be working on a cylindrical piston and carefully inserting compression rings at its ridges not to cause further dents or scarring that could completely cause a major flaw on the entire engine's system. Once finish, he easily connects it to the rest of the already made crankshaft assembly, before then placing it next to the countless others and then takes another piston and rings to do it all over again.

If he can take the heavy silence, then I commend him for that. I guess he is used to it when he is flying solo; with only the steady hum of the live engine as company, surely praying every second in-flight that it will have the energy to keep the propeller spinning until both the throttle and mixture are cut idle. However, with how we've separated earlier, I can't bear this silent treatment between us. By now, I know what to say to him but remembering how he is a man who often starts conversations with a greeting, I decide to go with it now, saying, "Good evening, César."

I am expecting for him to reply back but without even lifting his head, focused with what he is working on, he only nods as a testament of his acknowledgment. After all, he also waves a hand at me earlier; no matter how unorthodox of a response greeting it had been from back then.

I sigh heavily another time and then ask him, "Bakit hindi ka pa umuuwi? Dahil sa suspension, parang tuloy-tuloy hanggang linggo na hindi mo kailangan mag-report?"

He flinches slightly at the mention of the suspension, and I hope that I didn't say anything about it. I don't know why I am expecting him to burst out once more, but by now, after hours since receiving the command, he seems to finally have calmed down and accepted that there is nothing to be done about it but follow. He finally speaks up, answering, "I couldn't just leave so soon. Especially not today."

Dahil ba iyon sa nangyari kanina? Na linulubos niya na ang buong araw na ito bago niya i-serve 'yong suspension niya na tatlong araw? Na mailalayo siya sa mga eroplano ng ilang araw kaya ba ganoon?

Finishing with precision out of another piston and taking then the next, he adds as if to remind me of his reasons, "On this day, two years ago, I successfully made my first solo flight." He slowly lifts his head to look at me before nodding towards the nearest plane—the same one he seems to have inquired about earlier to the mechanics—and remarks, "Gamit 'yan."

It is almost as big as the ones they've been using now—the Peashooters—however, I can hint that this one's wings are wider. To add, this one is a biplane and can be operated by two crews, which makes it ideal for flight training. Though it is a little unconventional to what is definitely being used now in my reality; since this plane doesn't put the pilots side-by-side, it rather have one on the front and the other on the back.

"Two years na rin noong binigay mo ito sa akin." He raises his right hand for a second, where the familiar bracelet he is always wearing remains around his wrist. Back then, he also mentions that I've given it to him; where my name is imprinted on the inner side of the plate. "On that day, too, noong binigay mo ito sa akin, sinabi mo na 'yon ang sagot mo sa tanong ko." He scoffs, "Sure... Definitely reminiscing."

Is that his way on telling me that today's also our second anniversary?! I mean, I didn't even remember anything about the courtship at all, and getting to wrap my head about the prospect of engagement still gets me overwhelmed from time to time. But then, doing the math and his statement that it had been on his first solo meant that we definitely met and fell in love during the course of his own training.

I can't help but be guilty at once. Now, there's the explanation that he had been assuring me and his parents that he is fine; not being able to speak anything more than that because he already knows that we understand. Yes, I do. But listening to this part of his story gives another full hidden meaning. Just as how his mother gifted him that medallion, the bracelet is another reminder that we've been there, supporting him, since his training. And he trusts that we will be there for him until the very end; because he is also eager not to fail us.

Before I can even say something else, César looks back on the plane fondly. "Medyo nakakalungkot na makita siyang grounded dahil may problema. Sino mag-aakala na ang dami kong alaala sa eroplanong ito na lumilipad tapos nandito siya ngayon para sa maintenance. Naalala ko pa na hinahatak ng flight instructor ko 'yong buntot sa damit ko tapos sisigawan ako sa may tainga dahil sa mga maling ginagawa ko sa lipad. Hiwalay pa, malamang, 'yong sermon na matatanggap ko pagkalapag namin; at wala kang ibang magagawa kung hindi ang tanggapin lahat ng iyon dahil siya ang mas nakakaalam at tinatama lang din talaga ako sa pagkakamali ko dahil parehong buhay namin ang nakataya sa isang kamalian lamang.

"Bago ako nakapag-solo no'n, nakalipad ko muna si Kapitan Villamor. Ilang buwan lamang ang tanda niya sa akin, pero alam ko na malayong-malayo ang pagitan naming dalawa, kaya sinigurado kong maayos ang naging lipad namin. Hindi niya ako sinigawan o anuman, hanggang makababa kami at sinabihan niya lamang ako na pwede na akong i-release para sa first solo." He chuckles, as if remembering the memories right now. "Naalala ko pa nga noong kabado ako na hindi ako kaagad makatulog no'n, tapos nagkita tayo no'n sa may labas lang ng barracks niyo at sinabihan mo ako na bibigyan mo ako ng pangpakalma. Pero sinabi ko sa iyo na bawal kami uminom ng kahit anong gamot o antibiotic na maaring magpagulo o makapahamak sa senses namin. Kahit na ilang oras pa bago ang lipad."

Now that he is narrating a few glimpses of those days, a part of my brain seems to reorient in recovering those times. Though vague and still hidden behind a fog, my brain and heart agree that it indeed happened.

"Kaya sinabihan mo na lamang ako na may sasabihin ka pagkatapos ng lipad ko. Na kailangan ko masigurado na magagawa kong makapag-solo." César then smiles, and I know at once that despite the sacrifices made and lessons learned throughout training, good things are also achieved. "Sinabi ko na lamang sa iyo na nawala 'yong kaba ko, pero hindi. Sa totoo, dumoble pa nga na mas kailangan kong makapag-solo talaga."

"And you did," I remark with a light laugh.

"Yes, I did. It is fulfilling. That first solo flight. It felt like I've been gone for far too long, and I finally returned home," he states and sighs dejectedly, looking back on the piston and rings he has with him now. "It definitely felt like that."

I always assume ever since seeing this dreamscape that I am not the reason why César entered flight training and chose to be a pilot. It is too cliché, and for a rational minded one like him, romance is certainly at the very bottom of his list. I know he craves the knowledge, that he wants to quench that thirst for the unknown. However, along the way of his training, I've been there. And even knowing how truly captivated he is with flying, I supported and loved him.

As he finishes another set and before he can take another, I touch his hand, stopping him. And when he looks at me, finally staring back at me and realizing at once how I miss having his attention on me this way, I tell him, "César, let's go home."

* * *

I know that he is also troubled and wanted to ask me why I am coming with him back to our apartment. But, compared to me who can't stop myself from asking, he remains quiet and just let me. After bidding farewells to the mechanics, he comes with me back to the barracks for me to take a few of my things for the coming days that I am also given the leave. As per Capt. Villamor's words, César needs me for those days of his suspension, too.

Realizing it now how César feels about that, like that plane who've always been up in the air to be grounded... it is definitely like chopping off the wings from a bird and taking it away from what it really is.

"We wanted to fly; what were we pilots for except to fly?" Capt. Villamor also told me earlier.

Being a pilot is what defines César now. It's his life. Just as how sad he looks at a grounded plane.

I wait for him to breach the subject still, but César didn't. Even during the ride home and until we make it to the apartment. The biting silence is almost unbearable. And it seems like I am not the only one who hears the silence to be too loud at the moment.

"(Y/N)," César finally speaks up first, breaking then the stillness. "I'm sorry. Sa kung anong nangyari kanina. Sa kung anong nasabi ko. Sa lahat-lahat. I'm sorry. There are no further excuse to all of it; kaya kung may gusto ka pang sabihin sa akin tungkol sa nangyari... kung gusto mo lalong maglabas sa akin ng galit or what, please. I hate us being like this. Just lash it all out to me now, and I will definitely accept it all without any contradictions."

I gulp in hard and face him, wielding myself to be strong enough for a confrontation as this. I think I see him tensing up a little, preparing himself for whatever I am about to say and do. "You want my honesty?"

He looks lost, but he nods in acceptance.

Words flow easily out out of me the next time, that after sighing heavily, I then tell him, "Nakapag-isip-isip ako kanina. At dahil sa nangyari, napagtanto ko na... I was never the one you ever most loved." My voice is fierce and firm, but it is quite a struggle with how I feel the threatening onslaught of tears wishing to break free. But my words are the truth of what I've gathered somehow. My words are definitely poison for my own tongue that I straighten up, and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Trying to calm the hurt. "Hindi mo kailangan magpaliwanag sa akin tungkol doon. Naiintindihan ko iyon, César. Hindi naman ako tanga. I am not naive enough to not realize when I am not wanted."

Despite the hurt, it feels like a heavy stone had been lifted out from my chest. Having said those words feel good; but thinking how true it is... that feels bad. Worst.

I look away from him at once, faced then the darkness that envelops us right at this moment. Thankfully, I manage to do so; just as I feel the first trickle of tears down my cheeks. Nothing will change between us, I know. I'll still love him, and he to me; this is just meant to fit a finality that he can't truly and fully belong to me. That vibrant soul of his belongs to flying itself. And I know that I need to deal it by myself.

I love a man in love with the sky. That's part of him that I also love, and who am I to take him away from it?

Before I know what is even going on, César reaches me and grabs my shoulder. I only just register his touch and closeness when he turns me to look at him and pushes me back against the wall. I only stare back at him in a moment of surprise before he takes my jaw in his hand and all but drags my lips to his.

Ilang beses na ba akong nanaginip na hinahalikan niya ako?

I can only count them in one hand. Those times that César kissed me. All of it had been quite too familiar; definitely this dream version of me's memory bank can attest to too many more, and agree as well that this one is quite too different than the usual.

He kisses me urgently. The rush of intimacy only makes this uncoordinated kiss more saturating, stronger and feverish, that I can't help but drown and want more.

I tremble against him as his tongue pushes against mine, deepening the kiss. Passionately. A feeling of intoxication burns through my veins, electrifying every nerve of my body. And I can feel his hunger, and it is ravenous that I can't help moaning against his mouth, which he only devours out of need and want.

By the time he pulls away, both of us catching our breath, he didn't let me go far. He still holds me just as close, choosing to rest his forehead against mine as his fingers caress my cheek. As he trails a thumb down my cheek to press it against my swollen lip, he let out a defeated and strained out sigh, saying, "I have never craved affection until I tasted yours. And now... I fear what I would be without it."

"What is that craved affection, César?" I take a shaky breath, definitely walking on thin ice.

He is speechless and only stares back at me.

And I push him for an answer, repeating myself, "What is that craved affection, Lieutenant César Basa?"

César's eyes darken.

I bite my lower lip, knowing too well that I provoke him. But then... If he had asked, I'll be his.

"I shall make this clear only once, (Y/N)," he addresses me after a minute of silence and contemplation. "Alam ko na pinangako na natin ang ating mga sarili para sa isa't isa, pero... kung ikaw ay talagang mapapasaakin, sa akin ka lamang." He breathes out heavily. "Your kisses will be mine. Your body will be mine. Your pleasure will be mine. Your sound of ecstasy will be mine. Your everything will be mine."

I can feel his other hand slipping across my lower back, pulling me against his body. My next breath catches in the back of my throat, and I can feel my cheeks grow with heat.

"And if I kiss you again, right here... right now, I don't think I'll be able to stop myself," he continues. "At ngayong sinabi ko ang lahat ng iyon sa iyo... Ngayong alam mo na ang lahat-lahat ng iyon, do you still wish to be all mine, (Y/N)?"

There is no moment of hesitation nor doubt. No questions nor contradictions. That when I match his intense gaze and decide to press my lips to the corner of his, I mumble, "Would that make me yours, César?"

César breathes out a relieved sigh, and smiles. His eyes twinkle bright in the shadows, and I've fallen in love with him all over again when he whispers, "Mine."

"Yours," I breathe.

And I am lost and found in his arms. For he touches me so ever gently, and it feels as if the stars are in love with me, dancing across my skin so gracefully.

* * *

A/N: Vote, comment and share! Whatever you do means a lot to me, and I am really wishing for some feedback!
And yes, if you are going to ask me if you read and assumed correctly; yes, whatever you are thinking right now regarding that chapter ending is correct.

A few list of notes to share!
1. "Aircraft squawking" is equivalent to "aircraft noted". Current air traffic radars assign airline flights with a respective squawk number to be inputted on their transponders to be registered in the radars as such. However, "squawking" isn't only limited to that, as it may also refer to being noted due to an emergency or a problem or some maintenance issue in response to an aircraft on ground.
2. Phase inspections are the equivalent "check-ups" or "oil change" of a car. It is routinely done in a manner based on the logged tachometer, and had countless types from Phase 1 or Phase 2 inspections and more that will determine how long or wide a scope the inspection will be from simple checks to a complete overhaul.
3. Oil temperature. Like a car, indeed, oil temperature is an important aspect of an aircraft, too, as it not only acts as a lubricant but also as a cooling agent to the otherwise hot engine combusting with air and fuel mixture. The given scenario from above is one that I've experienced myself. Climbing, due to a full throttle requirement, is actually helpful to keep the propeller spinning; despite the much needed power with the engine, it also gains much cooling agent aside from oil alone which is the air. Descending, despite a lower use of RPM and propeller rotation, also has air as a cooling agent. However, in such a situation, oil temperature readings are important in a cruise, where there is a constant RPM and enough of the air and fuel mixture. Due to that, we aborted our supposed-to-be cross-country flight to Laoag and return to La Union; reporting then the problem to the mechanics; and then be told that the problem, despite only being released from a phase inspection and with full oil reading, was because of the line assembly where oil had been clogged.
4. Piston, rings and crankshaft assembly. More of in the engine that are almost an equivalent to that of a car, right? But the plane in question that PAAC had been using at such time were all radial-type engines; hence, these engines are bigger, bulkier and much more complex that there are more pistons working on to be attached to the crankshaft then to the whole assembly of the engine itself. Piston rings are inserted onto the ridges of the rings that carry heat away from the hot piston into the cooled cylinder wall or block of the engine.
5. How to actually stop the engine. You'll say that you apply the brakes for a car, or switched off the ignition, or may even think that cutting off the throttle will do the work. Well, no. Applying the brakes only stop the plane from moving, switching off the ignition is very much shutting down the entire system that will actually stop the engine too well, and cutting off the throttle only causes the propeller from windmiling or to rotate at a lower speed but not to actually cut off the engine. Here comes the work of the mixture. Mixture, compared to cars, feed the engine with the right amount of fuel and air combination; hence, the higher altitude you have, with thinner air, the lesser fuel you'll be needing to use. Idling or cutting off the mixture will instantly close the fuel from feeding the aircraft, instantly stopping the engine in-flight or even on ground. That's why, they always say, start sweating if you cut it off when not needed; to add, there's also a reminder regarding that at where the mixture is at a Peashooter...
6. First solo is usually attributed to be a pilot's greatest achievement; as everything else is attributed to it. First solo, as said, is when a pilot flies on his own for the first time after a flight instructor gained confidence of the student to do so. Most build-up times involved the pilot flying solo, or if when a flight instructor is with the student, everything is being done by the student while the flight instructor just rides along.
7. Boeing Stearman-75 is a biplane used as a military training plane during those early years. Compared to training planes nowadays like the Cessna C152 and C172, the Stearman-75 has the student seated in front and the instructor at the back; compared to nowadays where the student takes the left seat and the instructor takes the right. When flying solo, however, a pilot sits on the back of a Stearman where its center of gravity is. With that being said, during flight training, flight instructors tug the student's shirt tail to catch his attention whenever he is doing something wrong, and after the student's first solo, aside from the so-called baptism, a rite of passage is to have the shirt tail cut off.

Chapter title: Line of Position. This is quite a chapter title that I didn't have a hard time giving. My last lesson, during the time of writing the entire story, had been that of RNAV or VOR, which focuses as an introduction to completely basic instrument flying (as in no orientation to the view outside but based on the readings of the instruments alone). In every start of the lessons, we're asked about our LOP or Line of Position towards the respective or tuned radio station we are. It is very much like homing. And if you remember the chapter that is associated with "Homing", it is of César heading "home"; and with this one, it is very much like realizing where he is in relation to the person he considers "home", too.

By the way, as an additional note, this chapter has two other written versions: an extended version and one that of César's POV... I wonder if you'll be interested in reading it as bonus chapters in the future... 👀

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