Cass was busy working and had plans later on with Henn. Soren knew that Sable would be tied up at work for a while, so he decided to pack up his cello and go visit a new friend. It was more than simply adoration of a character from one of his favorite literary works. It was more that Soren was a kindred spirit. He'd been betrayed by a lover, and he'd tried to kill himself. The biggest difference was that Soren had failed in that attempt, and in failing, he'd managed to recover and thrive. He hadn't descended quite so far into madness, and for that he was grateful.
So if he could take care of her, if he could watch out for her, then he would do so. He wasn't her Laertes, nobody could replace her brother, but he could be her friend.
The orderlies took apart his cello carefully, checking for sharps, and he submitted himself to the same search. He hadn't worn a belt on purpose, and he promised them that he'd stick to the room they had set up for visitors.
When he rounded the corner with his case in hand, he smiled warmly at the other blond in the room. "Ophelia? I'm Soren." He'd tried to cover up the tattoos on his wrists with a longer shirt, not wanting to startle her.