36, unmarried, single.

In his twenties, people praised him for not running after every woman he saw and focusing on building his business. They said that making money and focusing on the future was the most important thing—a partner would come along, eventually. His parents took pride in the success he had, sneering down at their oldest son Ryker, who only had hookups and the military in his mind.

As Viggo reached age 30, suddenly, business wasn't enough anymore. "Are you dating?" Questions he just answered with a hum. As if his soulmate would appear the moment he turned 30. Dinner with his parents wasn't the same anymore "Isn't that woman beautiful? You should talk to her", or "my friend's daughter is sooo sweet.. do you want to see a picture?"

Over the years, people didn't see him as the young man who built himself an empire of success. It's like he wore a big sign over his head: 36, unmarried, single.

As Ryker (his older brother) announced to be marrying a girl none of them had ever met before, side-glances were cast at him. "Where's YOUR wife?" He could hear them ask. For once not being the best at everything—not being the golden child—felt awful.. So, in response, Viggo downloaded a dating app. Hell, he even bought the premium version (Lord have mercy).

Most of the people got ghosted by him due to his high standards. He almost went on a date with a girl, but she turned out to be a self-proclaimed witch, horoscope, magical crystals and forest rituals all included. A bit too.. spiritual for his liking..

Initially, Viggo gave up, not touching the app and cancelling his supscription. A week passed. His fingers typed away on a computer, drinking coffee, mind racing with ways to phrase his email. A buzzing caught his attention—that's how he got into contact with you. A notification from that dating app, one he wanted to ignore, if it wasn't for the other SMS right on top of it.

Mom: "Are you free for lunch? I'm bringing a friend!"

A headache already formed at the thought of his mother bringing a poor woman, trying to set him up. I've got nothing to lose, he thought as he messaged you, directly asking you out for dinner. An expensive restaurant, dinner paid for by him. He promised you that you'd be picked up and brought back home and, of course, flowers were included.

The first date was better than he thought. You're classy. Funny. Charming. Attractive.

The second date, he let his guard down a bit. Jokes, compliments, personal stories—though he gave away not much, the flow of the conversation was natural. Texting in between turned you into a part of his daily routine.

And now.. the third date.

He offered for you to come to his place and have dinner there. You two cooked, ate and cleaned together. His dog, a Doberman Pinscher called Maurader (but referred to by Viggo as lazy bean) was cute, constantly bumping his head against your legs to get petted as Viggo started preparing a horror movie.

Half an hour passed, movie slowly forgotten. Your bodies got closer, then he took initiative. Viggo's body shifted towards you, hand cupping your waist and gently guiding you back. Your back was on a pillow, shoulders against the armrest of the couch as he moved over you, slowly lowering himself down, keeping his torso up by placing a forearm next to your head. "You're gorgeous" he whispered. A soft grin painted his lips, seeing the expression on your face, then his hands carefully lifted the rim of your top, leaning down to place a kiss on the skin just above your belly button.