5. I'm freezing, you're warm. Hug me.
"You know, Red, no matter how many times I try to wrap my head around it, I just can't believe that you got us into this god damned mess!"
Personally, Red doesn't think things are that bad.
"We drive out after dark to the middle of nowhere to meet one of your stupidly reclusive and paranoid associates only to have my car break down on the way back in an area with absolutely no cell phone reception. So, naturally, you and I are now walking along a deserted dirt road in the countryside hoping to stumble upon either someone to help us or the nearest cell tower. Oh, and it's conveniently in the dead of winter!"
…Okay, when Lizzie puts it like that, things sound rather bad.
"I appreciate your frustration, Lizzie, but I'm not sure that every single one of our circumstances can be fairly traced back to me."
He realizes a second too late how unwise it probably was to speak at all. She does have a gun, after all, and there's lots of open space around where she can bury his body.
"Oh, really?" she shrieks rhetorically, throwing her hands into the air exasperatedly from where she's stomping along the road a few steps ahead of him, making little clouds of dust explode under her feet every time she takes a step.
Well, he's already opened his mouth. He might as well go all in and hope that he can ensure a quick death.
"Well, as a matter of fact, yes," he continues, injecting a little false cheer into his voice. "I admit that I could have chosen a better time for us to visit Pablo, but he really does have a good reason to be wary of visitors. You see, when he was fifteen, he –"
Lizzie's frustrated scream interrupts whatever pointless story he was about to tell her, and Red glances around nervously, hoping there's no hungry wild life nearby that will come to investigate. But he doesn't have a lot of time to worry about that because in the next instant, Lizzie stops in her tracks, making Red screech to a halt to avoid running into her –
And the next thing he knows she's whirling around to face him, revealing an absolutely terrifying look on her face that tells him he doesn't have to worry about any wildlife, he'll be dead by Lizzie's hand long before they can find him, and he doesn't –
But then, too quickly for him to process, Lizzie is throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tightly.
Red blinks.
"Uh, Lizzie?" he asks hesitantly, staying completely still.
(Which is more difficult than he would have thought with her arms around him and her soft hair pressing against his cheek.)
"What?" she snaps, her irritation a little muffled by her face pressed into his thick coat.
"If you're trying to smother me to death, I'm afraid it's not working."
"I'm not. Not yet, anyway," she grumbles, but the warning in her voice is half-hearted.
"Oh," says Red, pleasantly surprised that his death is not immediately impending. "Then what, if I may ask, are you doing?"
He can feel her annoyed huff against his shoulder before she speaks. "I'm freezing, you're warm. Hug me."
Oh.
Lizzie is asking for a hug?
(Oh.)
Red may be mildly suicidal but he's not stupid. There's no way on earth he's going to ignore a direct, if begrudging, invitation to hug Lizzie. So, he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around her snugly, resting his cheek on the top of her head, and hoping he can lend her some body heat.
(He certainly feels as warm as the sun with her in his arms.)
She must feel his broad grin against her hair because she speaks again. "Don't get used to this. As soon as we're rescued, you're dead meat, mister."
Red's smile only grows.
He would expect nothing less.