Why would Macbeth be relieved to be found out? Wasn't that the very thing he'd been so afraid of Cobra discovering? It didn't feel right to Cobra that he would switch so suddenly. The man's usual laissez-faire attitude aside, Cobra definitely sensed a genuine fear from the man mere moments before. One that was still present, but lessened considerably. What had changed? And why?
"I'm not that mad," Cobra spoke, thinking how to get some more information. "…Although I am curious as to how it all happened in the first place. Did she corner you somewhere? Or was it you who decided to approach her in the interest of scoring some blackmail on me later?"
Macbeth stiffened. "I wasn't scheming when I revealed that information. I hope you've kept at least that much faith in me. The specifics are hardly relevant. I just want you to understand that it wasn't planned."
The vague answers did little to assuage Cobra's suspicions. Truthfully, he did find it odd to believe that Macbeth would sell him out in this way, despite the man's twisted personality. Still, he had to make sure, so he strained his mental ears to listen in on any wisps coming from his tentmate's mind. Strangely, the only thing he could pick up was Mirajane's face, just like before. That barmaid clearly made quite the impression if he was still thinking about her. The poor man might be scarred for life. Honestly, that should have been the end of it. Yet still, it nagged at Cobra. He was missing something.
"So…is that why you helped her later then? So she wouldn't betray you?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't remember yanking me by the collar so I'd have to talk to her instead of running away?" Cobra said dryly.
Macbeth's mouth thinned to a line. "You annoyed me. We could have worked together and gathered more information, instead, you avoided us and started walking away."
Us.
Yes, from Macbeth's expression, he'd certainly been annoyed. But, about what exactly? Cobra's thoughts spun, thinking back to yesterday. Why would he help her at that point? What did he stand to gain? All he could think of was favor, or…
Favor. No. Affection.
"You like her," Cobra said, standing up in shock. He could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth.
Macbeth's eyes widened. For a moment, it looked like he might deny all charges. Then a picture came, clear as day, from his mind. As Cobra watched his friend staring at Mirajane, a contented smile on his face. Not a trace of fear to be found.
As if he knew he was watching, Macbeth's face took on a shade of red the same color as his eyes.
Oh, Zeref.
He'd misread everything, hadn't he?