"They're pretty bad. Only they're kind of mine. Just amplified." He didn't like the nightmares. They were worse, somehow, than the reenactments of his death. At least he felt like they were now. He might not feel the same if he'd been reenacting physically. But it had been more emotional, mental, and physical all at the same time. At least he hadn't brought his injuries back. His hand moved to his cheek. It wasn't caved in the way it had been after his death.
"It's...I don't know," he said quietly. "It's not better for me. Not when it means that you're a ghost. You don't deserve to be dead either. It's my lot, not yours." He sighed. "Plus, you can't push me into bonfires or out windows like this." He knew that that wouldn't matter, that Ronan would give that up for him to be alive, but Noah thought it might lighten the mood a little and he needed the distraction.
Sitting up, he looked down at his clothes. "I guess I owe Gansey a new pair of pajamas. And I need new sheets. Possibly a new mattress." He scrunched up his nose. It's a lot easier to keep a bed clean when you're a ghost." He ran his fingers through his hair. It was sticky and wet and definitely not the way he'd wanted to wake up. "And probably I should shower. Being alive is a lot more work than I remembered. Being a ghost is easy in comparison."