He really just wanted this dude to fuck off, but the other didn't seem like the type who would leave so easily. The man was itching for answers to questions he had no business asking. He was trying to guilt Boone into feeling guilty about his life choices, or so that's how it felt to Boone. He allowed the man to fall into step with him, hoping that perhaps answering a question or two would be sufficient enough and then he would go on his merry little way.
The man, Andras, seemed all too pleased at the offer to accompany him on a walk and even more eager at the opportunity to ask him more questions. However, what Boone thought would be more mild questions: where he came from, where he's going, what he liked to do in his free time, etc. Instead, he got right down to business, information that Boone wasn't sure he was quite ready to fork up.
Boone sighed, his hands shoving into his pockets as he picked up the pace just a little bit, hoping that he would make it home before he had to answer. "Bitter, no. Defensive, yes. I don't exactly like it when people stand in my personal space and ask me if I'm trying to kill people." If someone came and did the same to him, he had a feeling that he might feel a little defensive himself. "What made you choose me to interrogate? What made me look like a killer?" Boone was no killer. In fact, he wouldn't really hurt anyone - not unless he truly felt the need because it would otherwise compromise his own safety.
On the outside, Boone may seem very rough around the edge, but once you get to know him, you begin to see that he's really just someone who calculates his moves and plans strategically. Yes, he enjoys the company of women (and a man from time to time), but he never lets that take away from his strategy.
It was the second question, the reason why he hated fairies that had Boone looking up at him. There was no way he would divulge this information on the very first meeting. That was some personal shit this guy was getting into. "Something has...but I don't know you well enough to tell you what that reason is. You forget that you just inserted yourself in my evening. I don't share information like that with just anyone." In fact, he couldn't think of anyone he had told that information to, other than the people that caused those feelings. Boone didn't have many friends, no one to talk about life with. Perhaps he needed a friend, not just a woman for the night.