Troy knew that Clara had a key, one of the few people who did, why wouldn't she? But it was more inviting to leave the door unlocked, especially since he was awake and waiting up anyway. When the door did make a noise though, he looked up to watch as she let herself in, and smiled.
"Ah, Clara. Hello, tea's ready in the kitchen if you'd like," The smile on his likely suggesting she had nothing to worry about, but the idea that he wanted to talk to her so early in the morning, and had no desire to go back to bed, suggested there was something that struck him as fearful. Something that he was avoiding, at the very least. He knew that she was perceptive, might catch onto that; hell, he could see it in himself, but he also knew that he didn't want her to think he was too troubled. He was aware they were just dreams...
Or were they? That was the question he was beginning to get more and more worried about as days went on. They felt like memories, and were now so ingrained in him that sometimes he found himself talking differently, acting differently; the other day in class he'd gotten far more animated than he liked, and wondered where it stemmed from.
He gestured to the couch as well, "Grab yourself some tea and have a seat, I'm sorry for waking you and making you come all this way so early in the morning. I realize it's not ideal, and I'll have to be the one to make my way to your flat next and do something for you to make up for it all."