"You tell me." Sombra coyly exhales, spurred on by the instantaneous snap of Amélie's attention.

Following along behind her like a cat searching for cream, she isn't far behind: a few steps, nothing more, sinking down onto the opposite end of the couch without seeming to mind the idea of personal space. Already it's warmer (improving by the second), and Sombra tugs the towel off without pretense— flicking open the collar of her coat a moment later.