Synesthesia (фемслэш)

It had been a simple dare, one that had made sense when Emma had been two drinks away from passing out. She doesn’t know what exactly Ruby had done to bind it– is still very new to magic as a real thing, flowing through Storybrooke– but it’s now a dare she can’t back off on.
Ruby had laid out the rules, more and more smug as she had gone on. “So if Regina wears a red dress, you have to pick a fight with her.” Emma hadn’t questioned that one. “But if she wears blue, you have to give her a compliment. And if she wears grey, you gotta call her Your Majesty.” She’d been a little drunk, too, enough that she’d gotten bold. “Light colors mean you have to tell her whatever’s on your mind. Whatever.” Her eyes had narrowed in ominous delight. “And for black…for black, you have to flirt with her.”