And Ivan hadn't expected him to retaliate so swiftly. He'd wanted a fight, to bruise something but not necessarily get bruised in return.

But it seemed today wasn't the day to vent his anger as he let out a muffled yell bared behind gritted teeth; he was pushed off of Volgin from the jolt. It didn't really hurt him, more scared him than anything.

Although his limbs were shaking and the thin hair on the back of his hands and arms seemed to have singed off up to a point. He rose to his shaking legs once the most violent of his tremors wore off, and stormed to the bedroom to hide underneath the covers.

That static shocked him when he first tried to touch them. So he cried.