Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally.

The words rang clear in his mind. Such sweet, innocent words. Words that played such a big part in his heart and mind, even to this day. It was remarkable how such a silly saying could still wrench the Wutai man's heart, even when the original owner of that saying had long since passed on. Four small words that had once filled his heart with joy, now shattered it into unfixable shards as they fell from the lips of another other than the one he loved.

To this day, he could still see her. Standing amongst the flowers that she seemed to cherish so much.

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally." The beautiful flowergirl smiled as she turned around to face the Wutai man that was standing behind her. "Haven't you ever considered having a little fun, Tseng?"

Fun. The word had once been foreign to him, save for when he was in the company of the brunette. He had known her since she was a small child, and though he was quite a bit older than she, he could not help but to fall in love with the beautiful woman she had become. Her angelic features and bright green eyes lit up any room that she entered, and her smile could melt the heart of all men who looked her way.

Men that Tseng wanted to protect her from. He believed her to be the one to save this world from its total destruction one day, and for that reason alone, he wanted to keep her pure. Pure in mind, body and soul. For that reason alone, he wanted to protect her from all else around her. Even himself.

"I'm having a good time here, Aerith," he had mumbled to her, though a small hint of a smile had creeped onto his face, despite his struggle to keep it down. He couldn't help himself; that smile was infectious.

The flowergirl put her hands on her hips, which made a small chuckle rise to his lips. She was attempting to look intimidating, but her innocence merely made her look as if she were a child pouting about not getting her way. Tseng soon crossed the path made in the flowers-one musn't trample them, after all, and placed his calloused hand upon her cheek. His thumb was tracing a gentle line back and forth over her smooth skin as he peered down into her eyes, so warm with love and kindness.

"I'm always having a good time when I'm with you, Aerith. You give me the reasons that I've been searching for to keep going on in this hellish world."

Aerith had smiled and placed her hand over his. She lifted those light green eyes of hers and smiled, almost playfully, at the raven-haired man.

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally, Tseng. You have many reasons to keep living in this world. This place alone is proof that even flowers can grow in damaged soil," she had paused to move her hand over to Tseng's chest, just above his heart. "When they're given the proper care."

Her words had stunned the darkeyed male. His brow had furrowed slightly, almost as if he were trying to process the information that he had just recieved. Tseng had always been a strong, quiet man, even when he was with the flowergirl. Those same dark eyes had widened, however, when she had leaned up and brushed her lips feather lightly against his own.

The temptation had grown too strong for him to resist any longer. His large hand had slid to gently cup her cheek, and soon he pressed his lips down upon hers, giving in to the desires he had been fighting down for so very long. He wouldn't harm her, nor could he ever. His other arm slid slowly around her waist to support her, as he felt her delicate arms encasing his neck, and her gentle fingers gliding through the thick ebony hair that she had somehow freed from its holder.

"I love you," he whispered softly against her lips.

But all too soon, the moment, the memory, the girl, they were ripped from him by forces beyond his control. In place of his beloved's face, came the shimmering image of the man who he loathed more than anything else possibly imaginable. The man who had taken everything away from him: Sephiroth.

He lunged at the man, yelling out his rage, though a rarity it was. The ex-general was but a mirage, however, and vanished before Tseng could reach him; he left behind nothing but the rumbling of deep, dark and sadistic laughter. He laughed at Tseng's pain. He mocked how he hadn't been there to keep her safe, as he had once promised. He relished in the anquish the Wutai man still held, even to this day.

As Tseng fell from the lunge, he found himself falling, on and on until he was certain he would remain in a smokey white limbo for the rest of eternity. Until the fog cleared, and he found himself laying in the very flowers that he had so very often visited in years past. Standing, he felt as if everything around him were going in slow motion. Or perhaps it was he, that was moving in slow motion. He couldn't be sure of which.

"Aerith.." He muttered softly as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the lighting of the flower garden. "I'm sorry that I broke my promise. I told you that I would protect you from this world.. I failed to do that.."

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally." He heard the words spoken from behind him. When he turned, he felt the breath being knocked clear out of him, causing him to stand there, shocked and frozen in awe as he gazed upon the beauty that was his beloved. It wouldn't appear that he would need to move, however, as the flowergirl closed the space between them and placed her hand upon his cheek, so that this time, her thumb was rolling over his slightly scarred skin.

"I don't regret anything, Tseng, and neither should you. No one knew what he was going to do, not even I could have predicted something like that. I have learned to forgive, and now it is time that you must, too. If you can't forget, forgive and move on."

Once more, her words had struck him speechless. He had since regained control over his limbs, and reached one hand up slowly to trace over the pale, flawless cheek to her right. He almost seemed serene, until she had stepped away from him, and began walking off.

"No... no, wait! Aerith!" Tseng had tried calling out to her, but to no avail. His flowergirl vanished in the light, and in doing so, brought Tseng crashing back to reality with a hard, soundless drop. The ebony-haired man sat up straight in his bed, the covers all thrown astray and his hair flying all over the place so much it would make even Cloud envious. Tears had stained his scarred cheeks as he dropped his head into his hands, unaware, or merely uncaring, of the three Turks that stood inside his bedroom doorway, watching on with worried and curious eyes.

"Aerith.. I'm sorry.."

Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally.