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My bed has never felt as empty as that night. But my mind has never brimmed with so many emotions. My heart has never ached so hard.

My eyes felt heavy as I left the cold sheets the next morning; one man ran through my mind all night and his thundering footsteps wouldn't let me sleep.

I got out of bed the same time as I always did, tried to fool myself into feeling normal again. My stomach failed to play it's part in this act and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't bring a single morsel of food to my lips. Instead I felt drawn to the soft sofa cushions and the tempting TV remote.

Reality TV. My distractor. My time-waster. My saviour. I didn't need to get changed for the TV- I didn't even need to brush my teeth. It couldn't judge me nor could it leave me. Perhaps I may marry a TV one day, I have no other options now.

A few hours passed without an inch of my body moving even slightly; this proved to make leaving the sofa a wildly more difficult task than it had been to slump down into it. Nevertheless I brought myself onto my feet and slowly made my way back into my bedroom. My mother had been calling me often lately and I couldn't let her worry for long. As far as she knows I've been single, free and loving life for the past year now. How little she knows.

After checking my phone and finding an unsurprising lack of messages from anyone except for a blunt good morning from my mum, I turned to leave the room again. As I did so a scrap of white paper on the floor caught my eye. I recognised it as the number of that dumb website and immediately the scent of bullshit drifted across the room. Sketchy websites like that never work. I had only a minor belief in it to begin with anyway.

Just as I began to hobble back towards the loving arms of the sofa, the doorbell rang.

Regrets about failing to wash or dress this morning flooded in. Composing myself with a few deep breaths, I approached the door.

It can't be anyone that important. Nobody that important cares about me. That's some reassurance I guess.

My worries dissolved and I pulled the door open.

Damn.

The worries returned immediately.

This guy can't be here for me. There is no way in hell-

"Are you Park Jimin?"

Oh shit. He was here for me.

I could feel my mouth drying up as he waited for an answer, his hazelnut eyes boring into mine. I never realised brown could be such a mesmerising colour. Somehow his hair appeared elegant and styled yet sprawled messily over his forehead. His tongue ran over his perfect pink lips and I kicked myself mentally. I still hadn't answered his question.

"Yeah I am, who wants to know?"

A white fitted shirt teased my eyes as it hugged his torso tightly- a position, I imagined, many others would die for.

But you know who else adored shirts like that? You know else filled every hanger with a tailored suit? That bastard who broke my heart. Don't trust this one. I could just picture the thousands of forgotten girls names exhausting his phone contacts. I could almost see the millions of lust-driven selfies being fired off from his phone every night. Remember nobody important calls for you. This guy will leave within ten minutes, just you wait. He probably has a booze-filled nightclub to get home to.

Once again his tongue flicked over his lips before a smirk emerged.

"I heard you wanted someone to love you. Well here I am."