You don’t know who I am?” Matheus asked. A numb sensation started in his spine, creeping down to his fingers, up the back of his neck to his cheeks.
Quin ignored him. In a fluid movement, he rose, wrapping the blanket around his waist. Folding his arms over his chest, he loomed over Alistair.
“What am I doing here?” he asked. “Why am I naked?”
“Not so funny when it’s happening to you, huh?” said Matheus.
The edges of the blanket dragged along the floor as Quin turned around.
“Where are my clothes?” he asked. Icicles hung off his words.
Matheus stood up. He clenched his arms over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. A sandstorm waged in his mind, emotions whipping past before Matheus had time to process them. Quin didn’t remember him? He’d imagined a lot of possibilities, but that had never occurred to him. Quin’s gaze held Matheus at arm’s length, the distance stretching vast between them, and Matheus had no idea how to close the gap. He thought he’d found Quin, only to have him snatched away again. Matheus didn’t know what to do. He grabbed at the swirling winds, latching onto anger, letting it build a wall around him.