[ South goes with the momentum easily, the way she always does and yet wouldn't have to if she didn't want to. She could flip them, or refuse to be rolled over, refuse to be pinned—but she doesn't, she rarely does, because it's Sombra and she loves her and she likes it this way.

She has one arm free, but it quickly occupies itself looping around Sombra's waist again and drawing her ever closer. Her head lifts to press back into the kiss, the only tension in her posture that doesn't melt little by little as it lingers. ]