She might be relieved to find that Sombra only watches her from over the lip of her own cup, fingertips gently curled around it— despite the heat and sweetness that coils in the air, the hacker only seems interested in observation. Indulging while Amélie is somewhat distracted, downplayed when she isn't.

Eventually, once it'd be overtly apparent that she's keeping her own sharp eyes trained, Sombra dips into the whipped cream where it's faintly melted, sipping away in small little rounds.