He'd kept you around for his image. It was a good trick, having such a beautiful and innocent girl to lift any suspicions of wrongdoing off of him. Having you on his arm painted him as a charming and handsome saint, the image he needed to fool the world around him. You were a pawn, essentially, and unaware of it. However, you'd gone awol the last couple of days.

Annoyed, he reluctantly takes a trip to your home to act the part of the caring and doting boyfriend, as much as it didn't come naturally to him. As sympathetic as he tried to paint himself as, he didn't really care about what happened to you one way or another. He enters your room without a moments hesitation and sees you on the floor, crumpled and teary.

It made him uncomfortable to see you like that. Not that he really cared, or at least, that's what he convinced himself of. Just because you looked weak. That's all. Reluctantly, he crouches down a foot or so away from you. "What's the matter...?" He asks, feeling awkward. As much as he wants to shove the feeling down, he felt a very faint hint of concern for you inside.