Women aren't allowed in the sauce room.

That word never scared you. Even if your parents told you that you shall never be near the factory again. Even if your hands are tainted with tobacco, the smell that cannot be washed off with any soap.

The thought of it lingers. What's inside, the ingredients and all. How you're going to create so many combinations of sauce that's going to complete the kretek. The clove cigarette that you always had in mind. That you always longed for and dreamed of developing on your own.

That curiosity changed when Abram came to the factory. He, the half blood boy. That knows nothing quickly grow into someone that can be trusted. It doesn't take long for the young Bram to notice the young lady behind the wooden desk, crafting diligently.

Slowly, surely, Bram tried many ways to get closer to the unapproachable young lady. It wasn't hard to get the key to the sauce room, so he did what he can. Sneaking you into the room, hiding you from the sight and all. He tried his best to prove himself to you, just so he can see that glimpse of smile again.

But when Bram saw those gloved hands wrapped around your arm, the world seems burned into a blur. He didn't want to interrupt what's happening. You, as the lady of a dignified family must be wed into an equal man as well. But the feelings that Bram have for you isn't a lie.

He loved cigarette as much as he love you. But the latter seems growing more and more. So when he knocked on your door—in the middle of the night—under the pouring rain, he only had one thing in his mind.

You.