I Trust You

The Power Of Takeout

"Thank you Mrs.Cho." Grace waves as she steps out of Kung-Fu Kitchen, two white bags clasped tightly in her hand, one holding Tom Yum Soup, a dish she's seen Molinda eat often, and the other Bean Khew Wang, Grace's favourite noodles.

Looking both ways, Grace quickly rushes across the streets, dodging speeding cars as they swerve past here.

"The robot says I can walk, idiot!" Grace screams, throwing her hands in the air, the plastic bags swinging, as a Green Mercedes almost knocks her over. "Knew I should have just taken my car."

Grace walks into the pale brown, Shelly Cascades building and clamours up the steps, a bead of sweat rolling down her forehead as the heat from the food warms up her hands; the rest of her body heating up too.

The smell of fresh, steamy Chinese food wafts in the air as Grace creeps towards Molinda's door, her heart fiercely beating against her ribs.

"She's your neighbour." Grace whispers as she eyes the apartment door. "Sure you fought but neighbours fight all the time."

Grace nods her head and rolls her neck back before slowly lifting her hand and softly knocking against the door.

Grace shrinks back when she hears shuffling from behind the door.

"You can do this. Just breathe." 

Ariana Grande's lyrics echo in Grace's head as she hears the door's locks clicking open.

"Just keep breathin' and breathin' and breathin' and breathin'." Grace sings throwing a longing glance at her apartment door. "And oh, I gotta keep, I keep on breathin'."

The door creaks open to reveal Molinda with a white towel on her head and wearing a white bath robe around her tall frame.

"Hey." Grace squeals, her voice flying a couple of octaves higher. "I brought food."

Molinda's brown eyes rake over the plastic bags as her small, round button nose twitches as the smell moves from the packets into the surrounding air; slowly her hard face cracks as she opens the door and walks into her apartment.

Yes!

Grace steps into the apartment, her heels clicking against the large, pearl white tiles.

"Flying mother of pigs." Grace breathes out as she eyes Molinda's apartment.

Grace had never stepped foot into Molinda's home mainly because until now she made it her life mission to avoid the brunette but now that she was standing in her home, all Grace wanted to do was crawl back to her flowery apartment and duck under the soft, floral duvet covers.

"Now I know your favourite colour." Grace says, attempting to grin as she places the food on the kitchen counter.

Molinda's apartment was all white, as in everything, from the couches, to the rugs and even to TV too had white border surrounding the black screen. Grace leans over as she spots a small dining room with a white table, chairs and paintings.

White paintings against a white wall?

Grace slowly nods her head, as lips dance around her teeth.

"Why white?" Grace asks, as she turns away from the western side of the open plan apartment to the look at Molinda who leans against her white counter, a white microwave a couple a centimetres away.

"Dirt." Molinda says, her eyes trained on Grace. "It's easier to spot dirt when it's against a completely bright colour."

"Oh." Grace breathes.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, right to the point." Grace pulls out a white Jenson barstool from beneath the kitchen island and sits. "I wanted to apologise. I shouldn't be dictating what you do with your life, it was wrong of me. You only live once so we all have the right to live as freely as we want."