Noah was beginning to hate sleeping. He wanted to be a ghost boy again. Or at least he wanted to be a boy that didn't bring back what he dreamt. He wanted to be him again and not the him that was partly Ronan. Even if some of the dream things had been fun. This had not.
His eyes shifted after a moment and he felt someone there. "Whelk," was all he got out initially, but it was slowly followed by, "Skateboard." Everything was ruined. The bed, Gansey's loaned pajamas, the happy feeling that came with dreams.
"I'm..." He didn't know how to explain it. He was sure he didn't need to. Not to Ronan. Ronan had been here before. Ronan knew what the nightmares were like.
Noah felt sick, but his breathing was evening out a little as he tried to make sense of the shape of Ronan. Was this how he looked to people? Dim, the living image superimposed over the dead? He'd seen Ronan before as a ghost. He knew that. It was just that it caught his attention and he tried to force his focus on that instead of the panic that had built up.
"I don't like this part." He felt like his words sounded off, but that was possibly because he was on the verge of crying, but he was trying not to. He didn't want to cry.