What he'd see upon Svetlana answering hadn't really crossed his mind. Apart from potentially being punched or something of the sort. It was the least he deserved. Dream self, he mentally corrected. Sometimes it was difficult to look at the dreams and not feel like he himself had done everything he saw in them. Despite the fact that in the waking world, he and Svetlana weren't even together. Yes, he sometimes questioned why she put up with him because he was awkward and weird and he knew it, but he hadn't exactly asked her why she put up with him.
So when she did open the door, Anatoly almost expected her to punch him. Which it did look like she would punch someone if given the opportunity. However, he was grateful that she didn't physically hit him. He could deal with the words. In his awkward manner, of course.
"Oh. Uh. Yes. Sorry." Anatoly suddenly felt like he had the fear of God in him. Which, well, he probably should given he was standing in front of Svetlana on her doorstep when a phone call really would have sufficed. And also saved him if she ended up deciding she did want to hit him. "I'm sorry to bother you, but you hadn't been at some appointments the past couple days you otherwise would not normally miss and I was worried."
Worried something bad had happened. Because his mind always ultimately jumped to the worst possible scenario. But it was obvious that he was worried about her. Perhaps the worry was misplaced, perhaps it wasn't, but it was genuine.