"Aren't we all?" She asks, mouth tugged into a cool grin to match the twitch of Amélie's own fleeting little smile. Talon could flip the switch on all of them in an instant; Sombra doesn't like to pretend otherwise.

After all, she knows what it is to get caught without a contingency plan.

But instead of focusing on that, Sombra leans in when Amélie offers a taste— tongue set to cream, then cool skin— as casual as putting her mouth to foam floating over coffee. The quickest, easiest pass.

Some people dislike human contact. Sombra only dislikes attachment.