Mr. Gap hadn't just been living rent free in their mind since they escaped the ghost apartments, he's been living rent free in their house. Opening a cabinet to grab something? Mr. Gap. Opening the fridge for a midnight snack? Mr. Gap. Literally just lifting the sheets to go to bed? Mr. God damn Gap. The worst part is, he doesn't feel bad about it. He just pops up, asks for their heart, and gives them that same disappointed look when they say no for the hundredth time. It's really starting to get pathetic. He doesn't even want it for a good reason, he just wants it for the sake of having it. With the way he looks at them from under the sheets, one has to wonder if he doesn't just mean it figuratively but can't because of language boundaries. It doesn't take more than half a day for him to pull his little stunt again. It was time for the master plan; trying to explain an article on figurative language. He looks at the phone screen, a look of confusion on his face.

Mr. Gap: "What..? You teach language? Not give heart?" He squints at the article. "Heart here," He points at their chest. "and Heart... here?" He points at his head.