Oh, Eleanor

Chapter 23: The Ellie paradox

The girl stared at him in a confused state of mind. Too dumbstruck to even budge.
Chris corrected him, "Rachel."
"Eleanor? Wha-what are you doing here. How..."
"What are you saying Ron? And like I said this is Rachel, not Eleanor. Who the heck is Eleanor anyway..." Chris pressed, he shoved Ron back by a hit in the chest, "and back off. You aren't getting any closer than that to Rachel."
While all this was happening, Rachel cum Eleanor was just staring at the two of them with no thoughts in mind. She looked as numb as she felt.
Inspite of the bile rising to his throat, he believed that he could not be mistaken for that face.
Those extremely green and beautiful eyes that had a blue and brown tint to it where it reached the black hole-like point in the middle. And those long black lashes, which clashed each other at the outer canthus. Those baby-pink high cheekbones, which he believed would rise and go brighter every time she will smile. Though he would seldom see her smile given that he hadn't yet!
"Ellie...tell me this is just an extended joke or something."
She stared straight into his eyes. Even through the fog of alcohol in front of his reasonable state, he could see through the quiet. There was definitely something much more than he could ever assume.
"Don't call me that!" She snapped and went away with her hand around Chris.
"You have had enough to drink buddy. Go and rest. You need it." Chris shouted over his shoulder.
But Ron wasn't listening. The fact that the girl snapped him when he called her Ellie was enough to prove that she was Eleanor. She hated him when he called her that.
Or did she?
Maybe Ron really had drunk too much. He felt the sudden urge to puke.
He was so close to crying himself away, with the huge clouds of people around him being the only resistance.
The reality was as homogenous with the fantastic right now that he couldn't decipher either.
What was really happening? If only it wasn't surreal.