**Warning: Yaoi. Don't like, don't read...**
Grimmjow leaves the throne room with long strides, his all body still pulsing with rage.
However, after a few tens meters, pain catches him again.
Instinctively, his hand grabs his shoulder, the stump of his cut arm. He feels the blood, hot and sticky, running between his tense fingers. The pain pulses in all his body. But the anger is still stronger. The anger that he had been unable to fight back, the anger that he had been too weak to avoid or to defend himself.
His jam tensed, his eyes flashing of rage, Grimmjow keeps walking with long strides, as the pain goes stronger and stronger, increased par the humiliation of his defeat and his helplessness. He wants to be alone. He doesn’t want anyone to see him in such a state.
After a few minutes through the long halls of Las Noches, Grimmjow reaches his room. The pain is worst than ever. He has to clenched his teeth to hold back moans. He is burning with shame. He lost without bein
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