A/N: These are simply a series of unrelated Delena oneshots, from the prompt 'A drabble a day for the next 30 days'. They're not really drabbles, because for some reason it's literally impossible for me to write fanfics that are 100 words or less. Each oneshot will span across the entirety of The Vampire Diaries, so just be warned for major changes in the way that Elena and Damon are acting around each other.

Word: Formal
Set: 3x08/3x09/3x10 (around that lovey-dovey time period when Delena were very comfortable around each other)

Chapter One: Formal

Damon sat on the plush velvet seat in the dressing room of some big and pretty formal-wear store, scowling at the deep purple drawn curtain which hid the love of his life.

Elena Gilbert might be the love of his life, but she was being a real goddamn pain right now. She knew how much he hated shopping, but because Caroline and Bonnie were busy she had dragged him along anyway. She was looking for something to wear to her school's upcoming Belle of the Ball dance – Damon's exact reaction to hearing this was 'You still go to school?' – and needed advice on the perfect dress.

At first, Damon's will had held strong. He was very firm with her; no he would absolutely not go shopping with her. But then she had to pull out her wide-eyed sad and hurt look, the exact same look that had him bending over backwards to abide to her will. Without allowing himself to, he'd told her that he would come with her to find her a dress. The only good thing to come out of it was that Elena's eyes had lit up magnificently, and a hint of a smile graced her lips.

Being in love with her really sucked sometimes, because she somehow always managed to get her way. He ignored the small voice in his head which whispered, that's because you're whipped as fuck, Salvatore.

"Oh, Damon, I think I've found the perfect dress," Elena suddenly gushed from behind the curtain, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"Really? So we can go now?" Damon asked hopefully.

He heard her laugh quietly. "No, silly, you still have to tell me what you think of it."

Damon sighed. "But then we can go?"

"You sound like a little kid," Elena muttered to herself. Damon smirked, knowing he wasn't supposed to hear that. "No, Damon, then we have to find jewellery," she replied patiently.

Damon rolled his eyes. Of course she did. "Well why don't you just wear your vervain necklace and call it a night?"

"Because, Damon, it's a formal ball...ish. I have to look like a princess, or so Caroline keeps informing me," he heard her adjust some things to her dress as she spoke.

"Okay. So, are you going to let me see you in the dress, or are you going to keep hiding yourself in there?" Damon asked, a little calmer now.

"Yes, but if you don't like it, you must promise that you won't laugh," Elena said, sounding rather shy.

"Elena, I could never do that. You always look stunning," Damon said honestly. It was true - even in her absolute worst moments, she still looked perfect.

"Okay," Elena said, and pulled back the curtain, stepping out into the waiting room.

Damon's jaw dropped.

Elena flushed slightly as she stood before him, quickly averting her eyes down to her dress. It was a bright, sky blue colour, which blossomed out from the waist into a large polonaise. Yes, she definitely looked like a princess, and she wasn't even made up yet.

"It has crinoline in the polonaise, which is why it's so puffy," Elena said when Damon was silent, "and I don't know, I thought it suited a formal ball because, well...it's so princess-y."

Damon just gazed at her, unable to speak. She was absolutely beautiful. His heart thumped painfully in his chest as he stared at her.

Elena finally looked up at him. "What do you think?"

He stood up and reached for her hand, never once breaking eye contact. She looked at him funnily – he supposed that he must have looked kind of insane – but allowed him to take her hand. Lifting their joined hands, he gently twirled her around.

Puzzled, Elena asked, "So, do you like the dress or not?"

"I think I prefer the girl wearing the dress," he smirked at her. "You look absolutely beautiful, Elena."

Elena's mouth slowly turned up at the corners, her cheeks taking on a faint pink glow. "You do like the dress?"

"I like the dress."

After the dance, Damon wasn't surprised when Elena told him that she had won the formal title of 'Belle of the Ball'.