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Chapter 8

Noah's POV: 

I woke up in Harry's bed, clinging his pillow close to my chest. I didn't even realize I fell asleep. Where did he go? Did he put the blanket over me? I looked at my wrapped up ankle, and moved it around a little to see if it was any better. Thankfully it was. It still hurt a little, but I could walk. 

I was honestly was surprised that Harry wasn't in here to make sure that I don't touch anything. I looked around more today than I did last night. I noticed a picture in an old frame on his nightstand that I didn't notice last night. It was a black and white photo with an old yellow tent to it. The edges were worn and it looked like it's been folded several times. I looked closely to see it was of all the lads. There was a date on the bottom right corner that read September 1st, 1926. They were all wearing old-style overalls with what seemed to be a dirty white long-sleeved shirt. They all wore a newsboy hat, and Harry's hair was actually short. They looked like one of the paperboys that you learn about in history class. Their faces were slightly dirty, but they all smiled. I've never actually seen Harry smile, so now at least I know he's capable of it. 

"I see you found my photo." I heard Harry say. 

I quickly turned to see him standing at the door in his normal jeans and black t-shirt. "Oh, um yes. You all look like you could be in that play 'Newsies'." I told him. (I do not own the name nor any part of the Broadway play 'Newsies') 

"Well that's because we were newsboys." He told me. "We took that picture when we finally salvaged enough money to get one taken." He looked at it some, and a small smirk appeared on his face. "All the lads have a picture too. You'll probably see it in their rooms if you look for it." He sat down at his desk, grabbing some paper and his old feather pin, but didn't write anything. 

"Zayn said you all were actually very wealthy. How did you go from a paperboy to being wealthy." I asked. 

"Well we had plenty of time do it. We were building the house at the time, so all our money we saved up kind of vanished. We started working as newsboys and building the house at night. The whole time Niall was trying to find a better way to earn some money, so he started working for this business man. The great depression hit, mainly in America, but it effected here too, so his boss lost almost everything. By this time we saved up a good bit of money again so we bought the business out. Niall and Liam knew how to build it up, so they did. Now we don't have to worry about money issues anymore." He told me.

"How did you save so much money so quickly?" I asked. 

"We didn't have to buy food. We just went hunt in the woods and sleep right outside the house until it was finished." He explained. I'm glad I got Harry talking now, he's not completly closed off. He still doesn't explain much of his past before he met the lads, but at least it's something. "And Louis, Zayn, and I got another job working in a factory. Liam was helping out Niall with the finances and things like that." 

"You sound like you always grew up poor until you built this house." I said. 

"I did." He said bluntly. "My family was poor when I was little, so I never really knew how to do anything except farm. Not until I... never mind..." 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

"No, Harry please tell me. Until what?" I pushed on. 

"I said never mind." I said, his tone becoming strict. 

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "It's just that you're so hard to figure out. When I finally think that I'm getting to know you, it's like you throw a curve ball and I know nothing again." 

"The lads don't even know about this part in my past... So you're never going to find out, so stop prying about it." he had a hushed tone now as he looked to the blank paper on his desk. "I'm okay with telling some things about my past, but not this part." 

I didn't say anything. I just looked at him. He was somewhat opening up to me, which made me glad, but worried at the same time. Why didn't he want to tell about this certain part of his past? Is it that hard for him to talk about it? He looks like he's in pain when he even thinks about it, why? "So what do you want to do?" I asked, changing the subject for him. 

"What?" He looked at me confused. 

"I asked what do you want to do? You've opened up this much to me, so you're stuck with me now. I don't want to be bored downstairs, and I'm not going to let you shut the world off again." I told him. "So, what do you want to do?" 

"Oh, um." It looked as if I caught him off guard for once. "Whatever I guess. I don't go out much anymore." 

"I could see that." I smiled at him, getting up. "How about we go ice skating?" I suggested. 

"Ice skating?" 

"Yes. Do you know how to ice skate?" I asked. 

"Of course I do. I just haven't done it in a while." 

"It will be fun." I smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him to his closet. He looked surprised by my action, but I'm just trying to get a full smile out of him. 

I was about to open up his closet door, but he quickly stopped me, closing the door with his fist. "You do not go in there." He warned. 

"Why? It's just cloths right?" I asked. 

"No, go get ready." He told me. 

I didn't argue with him, but that made me twice as curious. What did he have in there? 

*WE GET A HARRY DATE NEXT CHAPTER! YAY!*