We're disposable teens

Oh? She cocked her head to the side, ears flicking. It seemed he had the guts to admit she wasn't tied to him, though continued to confess his undying love. It was charming the first few times he had uttered such vows of protection and love. Now it seemed worn out, stale, cliche. It didn't seem like it used to be - his love. It seemed like giving her his love was so hard, like as if he was only doing it for her.  He shouldn't love her because he had to. He should love her because he wanted to. "Do you honestly think I can't protect myself, find a place to live on my own?" she spat, hackles slightly bristling. Her voice broke at her next demand, choking on her own air. Throat hoarse, vocals dry. She had never dared imagined herself feeling such raw emotions about him, let alone lashing out like this. She felt confused. She felt violated, provoked. "What am I to you?" Was she a burden? Another obstacle in his path, needing his constant attention and aid? His spaniel following him wherever? A girl with assets, benefits? A pawn in his supreme plan?