Fitz doesn’t remember much about Simmons.
He doesn’t remember how they met, or her birthday, or the first bar they got absolutely plastered at.
He doesn’t remember nights in the dorm rooms with her buzzing next to him, or the incessant chatter that for the first time in his life, made him feel complete.
But there is one thing he knows, like a muscle memory.
He did not forget how Simmons likes her tea.
And that is where it starts.