Cassidy had the door locked, even though he was expecting Soren. He hated the area, and just hated London in general. He never liked big cities, even though he grew up in the very same town he was currently in. He was paranoid about crime, and about the neighbors he had, which were obviously not very good ones - one look at the hallway outside his door would tell anyone that - and he was fairly certain that chavs infested every darkly lit corner of the neighborhood.
He stood and shuffled over to the door, and after he saw who it was through the peephole, he unlocked the door and pulled it ajar just slightly. He shuffled back to the couch, where he curled back up where he'd been before Soren arrived, tugging the blanket back over himself.
He didn't make eye contact, and he didn't speak. He was more pale than usual, and it was obvious that he'd been crying. His eyes were red, and his nose and cheeks looked like they'd been scrubbed raw from the back of his gloves.