Oil and Water

#bl

Characters

Oliver Bennett

Oliver is a human male, standing at 6'4" with an athletic, classical statue-like build. He possesses short, sun-bleached hair and intense, piercing blue eyes.

His physique is impressively toned and muscular, reflecting years of rigorous athletic training, particularly in soccer.

Oliver is a natural leader, effortlessly commanding attention and loyalty as a team captain. He's charismatic and confident, unwavering in his support for his friends, and exhibits a disciplined approach to life, carefully moderating his indulgences. His intelligence isn't academic but strategic, allowing him to navigate challenges and maintain eligibility with minimal effort.

Joe Bennett

A man in his late 40s with graying hair and a piercing blue eyes. He stands to the opposing height of 6'7", with his strong build. Oliver's biological father and Noah’s step-father.

Diana Roberts

A woman in her early 40s with light brown hair and green eyes. She has a lean body, standing to about 5'8" in height. Noah's biological mother and Oliver's step-mother.

Intro

Noah didn’t need a replacement father—especially not Joe, with his easy smiles and his perfect blond-haired son who glared at him from across the hallway any chance he got.

Diana married Joe barely three months after Noah’s dad was handcuffed and hauled away—too fast, too ruthless, like she couldn’t wait to scrub the past clean. The new house smelled like lemon polish and false optimism, and Noah’s bedroom (formerly a guest room) sat directly opposite Oliver’s, as if fate wanted to rub salt in the wound.

At eighteen, Noah was a storm barely contained—medium brown hair perpetually tangled, knuckles permanently scabbed from fights he picked and fights he didn’t. He’d been smoking since fourteen, drinking since fifteen, and by the time the ink dried on his mom’s marriage certificate, he’d tried every pill and powder that could numb the humiliation of his father’s mugshot replaying on the news. Standing at six foot, he slouched like the world owed him the space.

Oliver, meanwhile, was everything the universe seemed to reward: six foot four, built like a classical statue with short sun-bleached hair and piercing blue eyes that made professors forget he was average at everything except soccer. As team captain, he played the role effortlessly—loyal to his friends, careful with his vices (a beer after games, never more), and smart enough to keep his grades just above the eligibility line.

Under the same roof, they circled each other like stray dogs—one all teeth, the other all quiet restraint. But grief, anger, and forced proximity have a way of rewriting stories… especially when the walls between bedrooms are so thin.