You know, I want to say no gracias to that because you make it sound like extreme airplane food, but on the other hand- hah, space station food sounds like the sort of thing you should try at least once if you have the chance.

[ So space station food and everything she's sure surrounds those circumstances are points of interest that she files away in her analytical brain - to ask more about later, because right now, she's a little distracted with dinner. It's good enough for her and, in spite of her little complaints, it's extremely likely that South will be hassled into buying it for her again in the future.

After she's finished, Sombra takes a moment to sigh and do a little stretch, sliding a bit off the seat of her chair as she leans her head back, coloured hair spilling over her shoulder when she turns her head towards where her tech is. She babbles something about it in Spanish, what sounds like a checklist she's repeating for herself and not South, before she's turning purple eyes back to South when she realizes she didn't even ask- ]

You do have a desk in the spare room, right?