A/N: This is my first Labyrinth fic (just discovered the film some weeks ago, blasphemous!) and it is my first fic in a long time so feedback and any kind of constructive criticism is welcome. I don't even know what prompted me to submit a story with a mature nature as the very first one but I was really eager to write this. This is un-beta'd so sorry about any spelling/grammar mistakes. Once again, feedback is truly appreciated and will certainly help me with the next chapter! :)
Disclaimer: The film Labyrinth and its character are (c) Jim Henson, George Lucas and Brian Froud.
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Sarah couldn't concentrate on her homework. She blankly stared at the algebra problems on the pages of her notebook, the once familiar numbers and symbols instead looking like some text in Russian to her. She had been sitting at her desk for what seemed hours. Sarah looked to the digital alarm clock on the night-stand to her left. 9:36pm.
She'd been attempting to do her work for only fifteen minutes or so. She tapped her bare foot on the wooden floor in displeasure and to make herself ignore the feelings welling up inside her body.
Her body was affecting her mind. She wasn't thinking of anything in particular at that moment, only on how strange she had felt the past few weeks. It didn't feel bad or anything, just... somewhat tingly, as if some substance were bubbling to a boil inside of her. She drew longer breaths, heavier breaths; why had breathing become so difficult? Certain light-headedness came around too, like right at this moment; Sarah felt her brain floating eerily inside her head, it was a bizarre feeling.
Maybe what she needed was a shower to wake her up, even if she wasn't sleepy. Sarah pushed herself off the desk and strode through the door frame and outside to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
She closed the bathroom door behind her and stood in front of the mirror as the quickly pulled her long hair up in a bun. She swiftly disrobed from her plain cotton shirt and dark jeans and her undergarments.
Just as she took her brassiere off, Sarah halted. The tingling was becoming more frantic, now creeping lower in her body. What...?
By instinct, she looked down at where the strange sensations were playing in the various layers of her flesh; however, something blocked her view right away.
Her chest was in the way; or rather, the attachments on her chest. From the angle her view was, she went upwards the gentle slopes to the sides where roundness was evident. Again her gaze went up, up to the breasts' respective peaks. A hot blush spread over Sarah's fair complexion, showing the awareness on her developed chest.
The nipples were tall and pointing straight forward, flashing a gentle pink colour. Their base was of the same shade, perfectly round lakes around lonely islands. The cold air in the bathroom had affected them, as if pulling on them. Sarah looked down at them reprimandingly, not wanting to see them; it was a surreal sight for her, she couldn't seem to really imagine them on her persona.
She covered her breasts with her palms right at the centre, as if to restrain that pointed flesh. She immediately hissed in surprise and pulled away her hands almost in fear. The change in temperature caused a small jolt on her skin and simultaneously a quick throb went right through the centre of her body.
Now Sarah's blush became rabid, a hot red pool on her face. She looked at the mirror once again, her burning visage staring back at her; her large heaving chest rising and falling from her heavy breaths along with her heaving shoulders. Her lips seemed more swollen for some reason, more pink than they usually were. Her green eyes were wide with fright, with that feeling of not exactly knowing what was happening to her.
But she did know what was going on; you read about it on textbooks while giggling and looking at the scientific drawings of bits and knobs and not thinking it would happen to you. And yet Sarah was feeling almost all of those signs explained in long detailed paragraphs in that old biology book from middle school. That one day she read about it in class, she wondered how it would feel to have one of these "symptoms". And it was also during that day when her interest had peaked and almost right away fallen off the radar. Those things didn't seem as important as reading the latest instalment in the fantasy novel series of her choice. She had been twelve at that time.
Now at sixteen, she stared at the mirror and saw the shadow of a woman, or what she thought a growing girl would look like; an almost complete work of art. How strange that the human body could just sculpt on its own through the years, it was a sight to wonder about. Her eyes still wide as large coins, Sarah wondered at the sculpture that was her body. When had she changed so suddenly?
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Please read and review, and thank you for reading! :)