[ Booker has his own business to attend to, just like anyone else in the city - and London gives off more of a keep to yourself vibe than any city other than New York.
But he's not blind, and not so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he fails to notice the young man hurrying along, eyes lowered, or the red of the blood still creeping up his jacket from the soaked arm.
He moves without thinking, blocking the man's - the boy's? - way with his body. Even he's not sure what he intends to do, but he can't just let him pass by. ]
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But he's not blind, and not so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he fails to notice the young man hurrying along, eyes lowered, or the red of the blood still creeping up his jacket from the soaked arm.
He moves without thinking, blocking the man's - the boy's? - way with his body. Even he's not sure what he intends to do, but he can't just let him pass by. ]
Hey!