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Eleanor was still nervous.
She’d heard him say 300 years, sure. She’d seen him remember his note. And she’d made eye contact with him, unable to stop her smile because it was Chidi and even facing the end of the world for the hundredth time (she’s not sure how many times it’s really been by now, but that’s beside the point), he made her smile, just like he had in so many other shirty situations.
But she couldn’t shake the worry that it would be different. That he wouldn’t remember her. Them. Whatever. That he wouldn’t feel the same way. Because last time Chidi had been reminded of all his lives, he had denied feeling anything for Eleanor until she had nearly lost her mind and torn them all to pixels trapped inside a Janet void, and she did not want to repeat that experience, thank you very much.
No, it had been a year of stress and heartache and constant irritation with the experiment (she knows Brent got better at the end, but she still wants to give him a retroactive kick in the ash), and what she did want was Chidi. And it would be really hard to move on with the whole, you know, preventing-the-destruction-of-earth thing until she heard him say he wanted her too. Or not. In which case, they’d have to make sure their new afterlife system didn’t fork over anyone else’s love life quite this badly.
But then she realized she and Chidi were still looking at each other. And despite the time-sensitive situation, her friends were stepping back. Tahani took Michael and Janet by the arms and strolled aimlessly away as Jason busied himself with asking every Janet in the crowd for a replacement Duval Ditchwater, and Eleanor would have turned to thank them if she wasn’t convinced that breaking eye contact with Chidi now was kind of the world’s worst idea.
Something about that note, and the way he was looking at her… There was more emotion, more care there than she had seen from him in an entire year, but she couldn’t get herself to believe her eyes. Eleanor had never been a passive person. She needed the words, the proof, that he remembered what they are. Which means finally steeling herself to talk.
“Hi, Chidi.”
The same thing she’d said to him at the start of the experiment, and twelve months later she’s still trying so hard not to let her voice shake.
“Eleanor.”
Not much to go off of. He’s still smiling a bit. That must be good, right? What now?
“Do... I mean, are you still, um –”
Her fumbling (smoothly done, Shellstrop) is cut off as Chidi takes one huge step forwards and wraps his arms around her. As she finally starts to relax, she hears his whisper against her hair.
“I love you. So much.”
She hasn’t cried for real in front of the others. Until now. Until she hears his voice say those words again, and she hugs him in return, maybe harder than she’s ever hugged anyone, and almost sobs, a bit embarrassed because she’s Eleanor Shellstrop and she doesn’t cry for anything, but fork it, she’ll make an exception for this.
She needs to pull herself together though, because God, does she want to kiss him. When she finally draws back to do so, even the tears and the army of Janets can’t disrupt the memory of the last time they’d stood in the Judge’s chambers and Chidi had kissed her, and she finally feels certain again that they will always make it back to this. Hopefully without the imminent threat of eternal torture. Speaking of which…
They pull apart and look at each other once more.
“So, do we have to save the world again or what?” he asks.
“Familiar territory, right?”
“If I’m doing it with you, absolutely.”