[ Amos blinks, his grin fading, but doesn't pull back. He's silent for a moment, trying to figure out how to square Matt's familiar nature with his words. He searches his eyes, finds — no, this isn't some joke or prank. Matt means what he's saying.

He puffs out a little sigh. At least his head is tilted somewhat downwards, so it's not right in Matt's face. ]

You don't remember.

[ Does he sound a little disappointed? Maybe, but judging by the way Amos moves his hand upwards, letting his fingers thread themselves through Matt's hair, he isn't discouraged. ]

It's okay. It was a long time ago. Might be better if you don't remember, anyway. There was some shit in another universe— it doesn't matter.

[ It really doesn't. A small smile creeps back on his face; he's fine. Genuinely so. ]

Name's Amos. We met once, a while ago. Guess we're meeting each other again now.

[ Just probably not in the biblical sense; Amos remains fully clothed, and isn't inclined to change that when all that's around them is dirt and moss and tree. And yet — that isn't stopping him from keeping himself close to Matt regardless. Because he did know him, and he figures, well.

This would be welcome, regardless — and here they still are, known or not. ]